I Love You, Always
by Lilliwyn
Summary: "Is bravery the absence of fear or is it the determination to persevere, the humility that is necessary to accept the support and help of others, and the sacrifice that it takes to put others before oneself, even when one might feel that fear for their own safety might swallow him whole?" Post Origins. Teagan x F!Cousland with some Coulistair through flashbacks. Updated weekly!
1. Farewell

Summary: The Archdemon is dead, and so is Alistair Theirin, Leraen Cousland's betrothed lover and the successor to the Fereldan throne. The Warden soon finds herself forced to marry another despite her protests during the worst of her grief. Can love be found in this unlikely place? Includes a Teagan x Cousland pairing with some Coulistair through flashbacks.

Now, just in case you couldn't guess, this story does contain spoilers to the ending of the game. There is also character death in this first chapter. This story is rated T for some violence, infrequent mild language, and perhaps a bit of implied sexual content later. There may be future chapters where some scenes might become more intense than what this list allows, and while I doubt that it will be intense enough to warrant a rating change, I will be sure to give warning if I think anyone might find the content disturbing.

Since this story was started almost four years ago, there are elements that would be considered non-canon now as well, since going back to change them would change the whole plot of the story. Please keep this in mind as you read.

This story is also on AO3! It can be easily found on through the site's search system. Alternatively, you can find it through my profile there, which is linked to my profile here. I would post a link here but this site won't let me do that. :(

One more thing: the Warden's name, Leraen, is pronounced like Luh-ray-in, just in case you were wondering.

I hope you enjoy! All feedback is really, really appreciated. And loved. And re-read at least twenty times. :)

* * *

Nothing that existed in Ferelden could have adequately prepared anyone for what would happen on that day. Not the abominations from the Circle Tower, the broodmother from the Deep Roads, the monstrosities that had been seen in the Fade, or even the execution of her own family.

Leraen Cousland had frozen once she had finally arrived at Denerim's door. The blood, the bodies, the cries and shrieks of pain and terror that filled the air were enough to make her contemplate abandoning the army just to leave the horror of it all behind her. If it were not for her comrades around her who bolstered her courage, she would have run in the opposite direction of the terrible slaughter without a second thought. The darkspawn, the dragons, all of it were enough to make her wish that she could flee.

But it was him that helped her through it. Her knight who with but a glance would motivate her to see their mission to its completion, could embolden her with a smile, and inaudibly would promise to follow her to the end with a simple squeeze of her hand. Even though she had been given the mantle of the party's leadership from its creation, she felt like Alistair had been the one who gave her the amount of willpower that she needed to press forward.

The entire mission had been a blur to her. It felt as if she was being dragged by the forces of fate and necessity and pushed by the demands that came with her role as one of the last Grey Wardens. She was nothing but a doll then; a marionette that was manipulated by a purpose that no one else could or wished to bear.

Leraen could recall her and Alistair's dismay when Riordan had fallen prey to the Archdemon. They both knew what it would mean to them and silently accepted what it signified, both too pained by the event to speak of it to the other. Leraen knew that Alistair had decided then that he would sacrifice himself for his would-be queen, but Leraen resolved herself to see that she would drive her blade into the demon's skull first. After all that had happened between them, how could she simply allow him to die for her? How could she just let him sacrifice himself when he was going to become Ferelden's king?

And then, the time to battle the Archdemon came.

The intense fear came again to Leraen when they actually saw the demon, which roared as it saw its new opponents. Leraen's allies: the mages, the dwarves, and Arl Eamon's men were already there attempting without much success to defeat the beast.

"For Fereldan!" she shouted as the party rushed upon the Archdemon.

Leraen's fear didn't subside, but instead drove her through the motions of combat as the battle against the dragon waged on. She steeled herself as its purple flames incinerated soldiers into ashes, while it bit others in half, and stomped others into unrecognizable shapes. She numbed herself to the emotions that coursed through her while their blood flew in her direction and landed on her armor. She didn't allow herself to falter when her friends would yelp in pain from the injuries they received from the demon, and thanked the Maker when she saw that they were able to get up to endure the battle anyway. Even when they seemed to be making progress in defeating the creature, she felt like she would drown in her sorrow over the lives that had already been cruelly stolen from them and the ones that they were yet to lose.

The Warden shielded her ears as cries of pain erupted from the dragon. The Archdemon had flown down to a lower platform on the tower of Ford Drakon in order to recuperate his strength. However, it didn't seem to take into account that archer and mage reinforcements had now come to replace the ones who had fallen. The ranged attackers were doing a very good job at injuring the beast from a distance.

The tower was currently in an even more chaotic state than it was before. The few healer magi were running around frantically to heal the wounded while the rest of the fighters did their best to avoid the Archdemon's devastating spells and attacks. To top it all off, the Archdemon continued to summon horde upon horde of darkspawn and swamped the army below with even more creatures to kill. However, despite the obstacles the demon would throw at them, the Warden's armies seemed to have gained an edge against their enemies.

As the dragon flew back toward the stone platform on which the battle waged, Leraen truly became even more nervous. Alistair ran towards the demon, and she, trying to ensure that he didn't try to slay the Archdemon before she had the opportunity to, sprinted after the monster. She wanted to make sure that it was she, not Alistair, that dealt the killing blow upon the creature. He was to be a king who had a bright future for both himself and Ferelden, and she didn't think that she would be able to live with herself after robbing both her country and her lover of that.

Leraen carefully aimed an arrow towards the dragon. She let go, and with a hiss of the string, the arrow flew and bit right into the demon's tail. The Archdemon yelped in agony before it turned around to find her, obviously intent on finding the source of the arrow that had caused it so much pain.

Leraen strafed to the other side of the dragon before she began to back away. She nearly panicked when it seemed there was no way that she could get away from the beast; there were too many darkspawn and bodies on the ground that prevented her from having a clear route of escape. The Archdemon lunged towards her and scratched at her with its talon, carving through her leather armor and leaving a gash across her shoulder. Leraen yelped as she jumped back before it could do any more damage to her.

"Get out of there, Leraen!" She could hear Leliana shout. The Warden hacked through darkspawn to try to get away, but it proved to be useless. The Archdemon was gaining on her with more speed than she could muster to escape.

This is my chance! Leraen thought when a new idea came to her. She had to defeat the Archdemon before Alistair decided that he needed to save her. She sprinted behind the dragon before it could turn towards her, pulled out her dagger, jumped onto its tail, and used the blade to pierce into its flesh to anchor her against the demon's scales. The dragon screeched and flailed its head around.

"No! You can't do this!" She heard Alistair shout, but his voice seemed so far away to her. She hung on with all of her might as the dragon began to wave its tail around in an attempt to send her flying her off of it. Once she felt that she had a good enough grip, she moved the dagger up his tail, climbing up closer to its body.

But suddenly, the dagger came loose from between the dragon's scales. This can't be happening! Leraen thought. She lost her grip and began to slip. The demon, sensing her failure to hold on, whipped his tail harshly and flung the Warden into the wall of the tower. The impact was accompanied with a gruesome snap as she struck against the hard surface. The Archdemon hit her with his tail again, leaving a gaping wound on her leg from one of his sharp scales. Leraen shrieked from the pain that it sent coursing through her body.

This is the end, she thought as she fell into a heap on the ground. The dragon turned to face her, and with an angry roar, it opened his jaw and readied itself to strike at its prey.

"Leraen, get out of the way!" she heard Alistair shout. His voice bolstered her attention, and with a cry of pain, she rolled to her right a moment before the dragon snapped in her direction. The agony that pulsed through her broken body was too much, and if it was any indication, the impact of the dragon's throw had effectively rendered her unusable in battle. She tried to force herself to stand back up, but she was too weak; too injured to support her own weight, and she fell back down to her knees. She closed her eyes and voiced an apology to the people around her that she was failing and to her friends that she was leaving behind. She braced herself for the demon's second attack and the dark, merciful oblivion that would accompany it, but it never came. Slowly, she uncovered her eyes and peeked out from behind her arm at the scene that was unfolding around her.

"You will not touch her!" Leraen heard her knight shout as he ran to her defense. She felt her heart break in two when she saw what was occurring. Alistair, with his sword held high, slit his weapon through the dragon's throat while it had been distracted by its need to consume Leraen. He then proceeded to jump onto its neck with a loud shout, poised his sword, and drove his blade into the Archdemon's crown.

"Alistair, no!" Leraen found herself screaming. This was not how it was supposed to end! Alistair could not be the one to slay the dragon. He had a job to do, a duty to Ferelden and its people. He couldn't do this to them. He couldn't do this to her. She was supposed to be the one to give herself up to kill the Archdemon.

A blinding light flashed from the dragon as its essence searched for a body to possess with an ear-splitting hiss. Leraen covered her ears and hid her eyes again; she couldn't bear to watch as a blinding golden light surrounded Alistair's body. This continued for a minute before it reached its peak and suddenly sent out a shock wave that knocked everyone who was still standing to the ground. After that, the light disappeared and the hissing stopped almost as abruptly as it started. When it did end, Alistair's body collapsed and fell upon the stone floor with a loud and sickening thud.

Leraen opened her eyes to the eerily quiet scene; the only things that could be heard were the wind, the screams of defeat that came from the darkspawn, and shouts of victory that were voiced from the men who were left on the ground below the tower, but even they felt strangely distant. Bodies, both dead and unconscious, surrounded her on the blood-stained battlefield. Other soldiers slowly got up from the ground, but Leraen didn't notice them. Time seemed to stand still when she began to scan the area around the slain Archdemon for her knight, and finally, her eyes rested upon his still form next to the dragon's corpse. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw his chest weakly rise and fall. Was Alistair still breathing?

She tried to stand again but fell back to her knees when her legs collapsed out from under her, her right leg screaming in a painful protest to her movement. A quick glance at both of her legs revealed to her an ankle that was contorted in an unnatural position and showed a deep gash from the demon's scale across the thigh of her other leg, but the state of her crippled body could not stop her. She knew that she had to get to him; he didn't have much time left before his life would be claimed by the Archdemon's essence. Ignoring the pain that shot through her broken frame, she slowly dragged herself towards the knight's still body through the blood and corpses that covered the stone floor.

"I'm so sorry, darling," Alistair said weakly in-between a couple bloody coughs as she grew closer to him. "I couldn't control myself, Leraen. I had to save you."

"Shhhh," Leraen hushed him as she dragged herself next to her knight; her king. "It's all right." Cold, uncontrollable tears fell down her cheeks and soft sobs wracked her chest while she laid herself down next to Alistair.

"I can't believe that this ends it all. I never even got to see what being king was going to be like... which I wouldn't call a bad thing." His speech brought another bout of coughing that spurted blood onto his chin, but Leraen did her best to smile at him anyway.

"Oh, stop it Alistair," she said. "You are going to make a fine king, you'll see." Her vision blurred over as tears welled in her eyes. She wiped them away and drew closer to Alistair so that she could get a better look at his face. "You are going to be fine," she said in denial of the events that were unfolding before her.

"Leraen, it's too late for me. There's nothing more that can be done." He weakly stroked her cheek, unknowingly smearing some of his own blood onto her face. She raised her own hand and gently caressed his as she pressed it next to her cheek, not caring about the red liquid that was spread across her cheek that had seeped into her eye, painting her vision a crimson color. "Don't be afraid. You must know that I will always be with you."

"Please, don't go." She laid her head onto his shoulder, staring into his clouded, brown eyes.

"I would stay if I could, love. It hurts so much to leave you here." He started to twirl a stray lock of her hair that had liberated itself from under her leather helm. "But I would sacrifice myself a thousand times if it would give you life."

"I love you, Alistair," Leraen said softly as her own sobs threatened to claim her voice.

"I love you too... always." He gently smiled at her one last time as he slowly took her hand and planted a soft, cold kiss against it. His grip gradually loosened and his arm weakly sank to the ground before his eyes became motionless. Leraen blinked in disbelief, half expecting him to look back up at her with his usually present humor glistening in his eyes, to kiss her again, laugh, and say that it was all a prank or a cruel joke, but he never did. His eyes remained clouded over and emotionless and his lips remained still, completely lacking of all the effervescent life that he used to possess.

He was dead and gone.

Leraen finally gave in to mourning her lost lover. She stroked his brown hair, gently closed his eyes with her fingertips, kissed his forehead, and buried her face into his still chest.

Wynne moaned as her eyes fluttered open, her hand flying to her head to rub her aching temples. What had happened? Her mind began to race as she took in her surroundings.

Leliana sat across from her with her back against the stone wall of the fortress. She appeared to be very upset, with her slumped shoulders and her red, misty eyes that seemed to be locked onto a scene in front of her. Wynne slowly stood and walked over to the bard to see what the matter was.

"It's Alistair," Leliana said once Wynne was close enough to see what was happening. Leliana waved a red strand of hair out of her face and wiped her eyes before looking to the elder mage beside her. "He's gone." She pointed to the center of the tower, where a weeping woman laid over a dead soldier. "I can't get Leraen to move away from him."

It was then that Wynne's memory came rushing back to her, retelling the recent events in vivid detail. She nodded towards the bard and thanked her while she walked towards Leraen, her mind racing while she tried to come up with some piece of comfort for her poor friend. She had two nearby soldiers fetch a stretcher before they came to walk with her to approach Leraen. Wynne had seen the Warden get slammed against the wall by the Archdemon before she had fallen unconscious, and she had no doubt that Leraen had been injured.

Hesitantly, she walked up to her friend. Her quaking, sobbing body lay next to Alistair in a pool of blood, her face hidden deeply in his chest.

"Leraen, dear, I'm so sorry..." Wynne's voice trailed off as she tried to hide the surprise she held once she laid her eyes on the form of the dead Warden. Alistair was gone! Her eyes began to well up, but she did her best to hide them for Leraen's sake. She didn't look like she was faring very well either, and the mage was not about to let her bleed out from her wounds. "Why don't you come with me? You are in dire need of a healer."

"No, I will not leave him," the grief-stricken Warden said in-between her sobs. "Please, let me stay with him. I will not go!"

"Leraen, Alistair gave himself for you. Will you allow his sacrifice to be in vain?" The mage bent down and examined the lady's wounds, taking note of the wound on her right leg that she saw through a hole in her leather armor, a gash that crossed her shoulders, and the injured ankle that made the Warden cry out and flinch when she touched it. "Please, let us help you. Alistair's death will cause us too much grief; we couldn't bear to lose you as well."

"No, I will not abandon him!" Leraen shouted at Wynne with intense distress, grief, and pain that were painted all over her face. She attempted to sit up but fell back to the ground. The poor girl had nearly lost all of her strength. "You can't take me away from him!" She continued to echo.

"I am very sorry, Leraen, but you leave me with little choice," Wynne said before she advanced toward the Warden. Wynne laid a hand on Leraen's shoulder, and after a moment, the lady's posture visually slackened. "Lay her on the stretcher," Wynne ordered the soldiers as the Warden began to succumb to her spell. But as they passed her dead lover's body, not even the magically-induced sleep could rob her from planting a final kiss onto Alistair's chilling forehead.

"I love you, Alistair," she whispered into his ear one last time before a merciful state of unconsciousness finally came to claim her.


	2. Enough to Live For

This chapter isn't nearly as sad as the last chapter was, thank goodness! I didn't enjoy killing off Alistair very much since I love him just as much as any other fangirl out there. Sadly, it was necessary to do so in order to write the story that the plot bunnies keep whispering into my ear. :)

This chapter may seem just a little far-fetched since some things happen that were verbally said to be very unlikely in the game. Sometimes crazy things happen, right?

And many thanks to everyone who has reviewed or who has put my story on their favorites or alert. I really appreciate it!

* * *

The sounds of birds chirping outside woke Leraen and she gently opened her eyes. She was in a very luxurious bedroom, with royal blue silk sheets on the bed she laid in, velvet curtains of a crimson color on the windows, and beautifully embroidered tapestries hanging on the walls. Was she back in Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim? Oh, she would have to find Alistair. She knew how much he enjoyed -

Her heart fell and shattered into a million pieces when she remembered what had happened. She had experienced a dream, hadn't she? It had been a terrible dream about the Archdemon, how it had been slain, and how Alistair had died to save her life. Surely it hadn't really occurred; it couldn't have been real. The memory felt surreal, but yet felt too genuine at the same time. Alistair couldn't really be gone, could he?

Leraen shifted in bed, but stopped short once a painful stinging sensation came to her right leg. A new fear came to her then when she realized that the pain was coming from the location where the dragon's scales had punctured her when it had hit her with its tail in her so-called dream. There was also a gash across her left shoulder from when she had the unfortunate encounter with the Archdemon's talon, and her left ankle had been bandaged and straightened with a splint. It had not been a dream. How could it have been a dream when the evidence of the attack was left right there on her body? She began to tremble when she realized what that meant:

Alistair was dead. He was truly gone.

Tears welled in her eyes and sobs once again claimed her weak frame. They had both known that this could happen. Leraen and Alistair had known that there had to be some reason for why the Grey Wardens were so important in ending a Blight. They had done their best to mentally prepare themselves for what might be required of them, but none of that could have braced her for the intense sorrow that she felt then. Why did Alistair have to die? Why couldn't it have been her instead?

Leraen lifted her gaze when the door to her bedroom squeaked open. In stepped Leliana with a large crystal vase full of red roses that looked just like the rose from Lothering that Alistair gave her one night at camp not too long ago. Leraen wiped her eyes and did her best to not be reminded of him through the beautiful flowers.

"Oh, you're awake." Leliana smiled at her as she walked in and gently placed the bouquet onto the nightstand next to Leraen's bed. "You had been out for so long; we were beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up. How are you feeling?"

"All right, I suppose," the Warden said softly, fearful that sobs would once again sneak into her voice.

"You gave us quite a scare, Leraen. You were unconscious for two days, after all." Leliana pulled up a chair next to the Warden's bedside. "We were afraid that we were going to lose you. You had lost so much blood..." her voice trailed off as she recalled the battle that was held a few days before. She shook away the terrible memory and pulled a smile back onto her face. "But I am so very glad to see that we were wrong."

Leraen did her best to return the smile for her friend, but she wasn't feeling patient enough for small talk. "Is everyone else all right?"

"Other than a few cuts and bruises, and maybe a few emotional scars, everyone is fine. I'm just glad to see you awake." Leraen nodded and smiled to her. "Although, Oghren, as usual, has really enjoyed the varieties of beers that Eamon has available for him. His behavior has given us a nice respite from all this tragedy."

"That is very good to hear," Leraen said with a soft chuckle.

A squeak sounded once more from the entrance to her room as another visitor appeared in the doorway. Wynne stepped inside.

"Ah, you're awake! I am very happy to see that you finally came to." She closed the door behind her. "Leliana, would you excuse us for a bit?"

"Of course." She rose, gently embraced her friend's uninjured shoulder, voiced a goodbye, and strode out of the bedroom.

"I've brought some salve here for your wounds, dear. They should help with the pain." Wynne lifted up the blankets and began to apply the soothing balm onto the wound on Leraen's leg. "I'm so sorry for what happened. I hope you will believe me when I tell you that I didn't want to have to drag you away from Alistair, dear."

"No, it's fine," she said, faintly remembering how hysterical she had been when Wynne had to take her away. She had been terribly injured, and gratitude filled her once she realized that if Wynne hadn't intervened that she would probably not be well off. "You did what was necessary. Thank you for taking care of me."

Wynne nodded in response. "How are you feeling?"

Leraen decided not to give an answer to her question. Surely Wynne had an idea of how she felt physically. Maker's breath, she had a hole in her leg from the dragon's scale! But she had to know - she had to verify that what she went through was real, that they had fought and killed the dragon, and if Alistair had truly sacrificed himself. The events that had occurred the day before still felt so dreamlike to her, even with all the evidence of the event set right before her.

"Are you sure that he's gone, Wynne? Alistair truly is dead?"

Wynne sighed as she stopped what she was doing and sympathetically looked into the Warden's eyes. "Yes, Leraen. I am very sorry. There was nothing we could do for him."

Leraen put a hand over her eyes as she tried to suppress her tears. "Why did it have to be him, Wynne?"

Wynne remained silent for a moment as she fetched a towel and began to clean the salve off her hands. "Sometimes things don't go according to our plans, do they?" She resumed her work as she walked to the other side of the bed and began to change the bandage on Leraen's swollen, aching ankle. "You were planning on sacrificing yourself for him and killing the Archdemon yourself, weren't you?"

Leraen nodded her answer.

"But Alistair got to the demon first. He saved you, Leraen."

The tears relentlessly ran down her cheeks. Why did it have to turn out this way? Why hadn't she just swallowed her pride and morals for once and pleaded with him to comply with Morrigan's ritual? With their lives in the balance, surely it wouldn't have taken much to persuade him. "You were right, Wynne, about everything," Leraen said, referring to the warnings that Wynne had earlier given to her regarding the pain that their love might bring at the end of their journey.

"Leraen, there are no need for regrets. As I have told you before, I was wrong in what I had believed then. The love that you shared with Alistair was a good thing; it brought you hope in some dark and desperate times. We can't change what has happened, and while it is an incredibly difficult sorrow to face, I am sure that it will turn out for the better. Alistair chose what he did, and you had little control over his decisions."

"I just miss him, Wynne."

"Of course you do. We all do." She set down the bandages and clasped Leraen's hand, "But, be glad that you had him at all. Some people never have such a chance for a relationship like you did."

The Warden nodded.

"Now Leraen, I don't wish to distress you any further, but I have some strange news from I and the other healing magi that I need to discuss with you."

Leraen returned her attention to Wynne. Was this the real reason why she had asked Leliana to leave the room?

"And what is that?"

"You had been unconscious for a very long while. I and the other healers had begun to wonder if there was something other than your injuries that was keeping you ill, so we drew some of your blood and tested it for traces of something that might have kept you from coming to. We didn't find any unusual illnesses, but, well..." her voice trailed off.

"What is it, Wynne?" Leraen shifted uncomfortably. The elder lady rarely had this much trouble speaking with her. What was it that was bothering her in such a drastic way?

Wynne took a deep breath before speaking.

"You're with child, Leraen."

"What?" Leraen was rendered speechless. The Warden couldn't believe what Wynne had said. "How could that even be possible?" Alistair had told her that two Wardens most likely wouldn't ever be able to have children because of the taint that flowed through both of their veins. How could such a thing happen?

"Is Alistair the father, Leraen?"

"Of course he is, who else would it be? But how -" Leraen stopped. This was too much for her to swallow. "How would the babe survive the battle? I was thrown about quite a bit. Wouldn't that have injured the child?"

"That's another thing that eludes me, Leraen. The child shouldn't have been conceived in the first place, not from two Grey Wardens. But the fact that it is still alive after what you went through four nights ago is a wonder in itself. However, the matter that I wished to talk to you about was what you wanted to do about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't wish to sound... insensitive, but a bastard babe won't fare well for you in court, Leraen. The nobles and their gossip and rumors will not be good at all for your rule."

"It's not a bastard, Wynne." Leraen said. She knew that Wynne meant well, but she was disgusted at the thought of getting rid of the baby; the simple idea of it was sickening. She couldn't do that to the child, she couldn't do that to Alistair.

"It's not? You and Alistair were betrothed, but... What happened, Leraen?"

Sweet memories brought more warm tears to Leraen's eyes as she remembered that night. She sighed while she regained her composure, and began to tell Wynne what had occurred.

* * *

It was a very quiet night, but Leraen couldn't sleep. She and her party were resting at Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim for the night, but they were planning to head out again once they resupplied and were ready to leave for Redcliffe. It had been a long day, but the Landsmeet had proven to work in their favor. Loghain had been taken care of, and now she and Alistair were engaged to marry! Such an idea excited her greatly, especially since she had feared that Alistair's heritage and rightful place on the throne would ultimately separate the two of them.

Now she was to rule with him until it was time to retire. It was those daydreams and happy thoughts that forced Leraen to lie awake, despite her body's fatigued pleas for rest.

A loud knock on the door broke her thoughts, and she went to answer it.

"Alistair? What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep, darling. Did I wake you?"

"No, I couldn't sleep either."

Alistair grinned brightly, as if he knew the exact reason why she couldn't get any rest.

"Would you like to come with me for a walk? I have a surprise for you."

"I'd love that. Let me get into something a bit warmer," she said, pointing to the light night gown that she still wore.

"Fine, I'll wait for you." Leraen smiled at him teasingly before retreating back into her bedroom.

She slipped out of her gown and into some more suitable clothing to protect her against the chilly night air. What would Alistair want to do at this late hour? Surely a walk was something that could wait until morning, unless he had something specific in mind that he wanted to do while they were on their outing. She supposed that she would have to join him and see what he really was planning to do.

After throwing on her cloak and pulling on her boots, Leraen walked back into the hallway and joined Alistair.

"Ah, there you are. Are you ready to go?"

"I'm ready if you are." The two of them then walked down the corridor, down the ramp, past the kitchen, and through the main exit into the castle's courtyard. The full moon was the only thing that kept the courtyard from being enshrouded entirely in darkness, which the couple was very thankful for. When they reached the castle's walls, Alistair turned a wheel which raised the portcullis. They then stepped through the exit and into the empty market district's streets.

"Where are we going?" Leraen asked.

"It's a surprise," Alistair grinned smugly at his impatient friend. "You'll have to see when we get there."

"Oh Alistair, you know how I hate surprises."

The Templar chuckled. Even his eyes seemed to laugh at Leraen in the way that they sparkled. "Yes, I know, but this one might make you change your mind."

The couple walked past the now silent stores and marketplace down to the Chantry. When they arrived there, Alistair knocked on the door.

"The Chantry, Alistair? What have you been planning?"

The chantress who came to open the door prevented Alistair from answering.

"Ah, there you are! You both took so long in arriving that I was becoming afraid that you both got lost on the way here. Come in, please come in." The two followed the chantress inside and took a seat on a bench by the entryway.

"Alistair, what is going on?" Leraen asked again. The way that he was trying to keep his plan secret was very sweet, but it was causing her to become severely impatient.

Alistair smiled softly to the Warden who sat beside him. He seemed to be slightly amused at his partner's restlessness, but he decided to break his mystery and speak. "Leraen, I've been having this terrible feeling of what may happen to us. Surely you've felt it too, but sometimes I have doubts that we both will survive the end of this. Perhaps I am only being unreasonable and rash, but I want to officially make you mine; to seal off our deal. I know that we are to marry later at a huge ceremony in front of every single noble in Ferelden, but I thought that this might bring solace to me before the my passing, if such a thing comes to be at the end of our mission."

"Oh, Alistair, don't talk like that. But did you really bring me here so that we could elope? Do you know what could happen if Eamon or another noble finds out about all this?"

"They won't be able to find any evidence of what happens tonight. We'll go through the grand ceremony everyone expects us to go through once the Blight is over. But a large part of me feels that we will never have the opportunity to do that, Leraen."

She nodded. The same thoughts and feelings had crossed her mind on a few occasions, now. She really longed to fully belong to Alistair, and to have him belong to her. Marriage, she felt, would help to achieve that. Her heart raced as she gazed upon the alter that was decorated with colorful flowers and lit candles at the end of the sanctuary. She then felt like marrying Alistair that night was necessary. What if she said no and they never got another chance?

Alistair rose off of the bench, and to Leraen's delight, took a knee in front of her. Her heart fluttered as -he slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a simple silver band. "Leraen, will you marry me tonight?" He asked. Leraen expected that he might burst from his excitement and anticipation, and felt that she would, as well.

She smiled widely and planted a kiss onto his lips. "Yes, Alistair. Please, let's marry tonight."

The ceremony was simple, but that didn't matter to the couple. Alistair gave Leraen another silver band to so that they could exchange them in the ceremony. They were only temporary since this idea was a last minute one, and Alistair intended to find something more suitable for her at a later time. The chantress pronounced them as man and wife, and they soon returned to Eamon's estate. They retired to Leraen's bedroom and slept together in their bliss, with no regrets, and little worries.

* * *

"So you two really were married?" Wynne asked Leraen again. The action seemed rather irrational for Leraen to do; she usually didn't make such drastic decisions off of a whim. But then again, both of them had bad feelings about what would happen when the Blight ended, and both knew that either one of their lives could be swiftly taken at any time. After it all, it had been proven that their feelings were correct; Alistair was now dead and gone.

"Yes, Wynne, we were married the entire month between the Landsmeet and Alistair's death."

Wynne smiled. A large majority of Ferelden's nobles had decided to keep Leraen as queen even though Alistair had died. There was now a true heir to the throne! Due to what could be considered by some to be rash and reckless actions, King Maric's bloodline would not be lost. But who could blame Leraen and Alistair? They knew that the Blight would not end without claiming at least one of their lives, and so it had. Perhaps they truly made the best decision for the both of them. Maybe it brought them some semblance of joy and happiness before Alistair's death.

Leraen smiled. "Wynne, by this little miracle," her voice trailed off as more tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. "I have someone to remember Alistair by."

"See? He saved you for a reason, whether he knew it or not." Wynne grasped Leraen's hand, "If it had been you who slain the dragon, you and your baby might not have been with us today.

Leraen nodded. "Thank you, Wynne, for being here for me."

Wynne squeezed her hand a little tighter, "Don't worry, dear. Everything will turn out all right in the end." She rose from her seat and headed for the door. "I'll go and get you a bite to eat. You must be starved after being unconscious for so long!"

Leraen nodded as she exited the room. How could this be happening to her? Alistair told her that it was impossible for two Wardens to have children due to the taint. But yet, here she was, and with child, according to Wynne. Her heart fluttered with the thought of it. Yes, she was devastated that Alistair was dead. But he had left her someone to remember him by, someone to keep her from being alone, and someone to remind her of the man who had considered her life to be more important than his own, someone to remind her of who had loved her, always.

And that, to her, was enough to live for.


	3. The Ledger

Leraen sighed as she laid on her bed in her old bedroom at the rebuilt Castle Cousland. Many things were on her weary mind since Alistair's funeral was to be held the next day. He and Leraen had often spoken of erecting a memorial for Duncan at Highever since he had lived there before he became a Warden, so to Leraen, it only seemed appropriate to lay Alistair next to him. Alistair had been very close to Duncan, after all.

The Warden and her friends had traveled to Highever the day before to prepare for the ceremony. The trip was less than enjoyable, though; Leraen had felt every bump in her wounded body, and after that long and uncomfortable journey she was very glad to be in her very own bed. After sleeping on a bedroll on the hard ground for so long, a feather mattress was a luxury she was indeed grateful for. And with all her friends staying there that night, there wasn't an eerie quiet like the one that she was afraid was going to be at the castle due to the absence of her family. Leraen decided that the visit wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be.

She still felt sad while she was at her old home, though. There were so many memories, both terrible and happy, that she remembered when she had walked through the castle earlier that evening. She missed seeing her mother embroidering in the sitting room along with her sister-in-law, Oriana. She could almost hear her nephew, Oren, running through the corridors pretending to be fighting off darkspawn, and her father arguing politics with Fergus in the study. She didn't even dare walk into Fergus and Oriana's old bedroom because of her fear for "seeing" the dead figures of her nephew and sister-in-law's mutilated bodies lying on the floor in her mind's eye. It was bad enough going into the kitchen to see to dinner, which had prompted the terrible memory of seeing sweet Ser Gilmore barring the door against Arl Howe's men so that she and her mother might be able to get to safety. When she visited the larder and saw the door to the secret passageway, she recalled seeing her father lying in a pool of his own blood, and her stubborn mother who stayed by his side and refused to leave so that Leraen could escape with Duncan.

Leraen reached over to her nightstand for her brush and began to pull it through her long, brown hair. She now felt sorrow not only for her family, but her fallen comrades now that she finally had the time to properly grieve for them. While she was still heartbroken for Alistair, he was not the only one that she mourned for. Her faithful dog, Rover, had ingested too much darkspawn blood when she left him behind to defend the gate to Denerim when she had to depart to attempt to slay the Archdemon. He had sadly died a day after the Dragon was killed when Leraen was still unconscious because of her wounds. She sure did miss that dog. He was a gift from her father that she had received as a little girl. Over the years he had become Ferelden's best councilor for her throughout every trial that had come her way and had become a very good friend. He always seemed to understand every word that she said, and talking to him always made her feel better, even if he didn't have a solution for her problems.

She also felt sad for Zevran, who she was forced to kill not long before the Landsmeet. She and the elf had too many differences between them, and Leraen had a hard time relating to him. She was not very impressed by his flattery, and the way he flirted with her made her feel uncomfortable since she had resolved herself to be faithful to Alistair. His love for pleasure and his open attitude to various sexual activities also caught her off guard. She had always been taught that such subjects were private matters, and his transparency on the subject had shocked her. Because of this, every time that she spoke to the Zevran she found it harder to find things that they had in common or could even speak about. However, that didn't make sticking a dagger through his heart any easier when he turned against her with the Crows.

A knock on her door drew her out of her thoughts. "Come in," she said as she moved from the bed and into a chair that Leliana had attached wheels onto. Being seated below everybody in the makeshift wheelchair didn't exactly make her feel queenly, but neither did collapsing from the weight that she had to put on her injured leg and broken ankle in order to stand. She rolled over to the door and gasped as she saw come to call.

"Fergus!" Leraen rolled her wheelchair over to her brother and hugged him around his waist while he stepped through the door. Her brother laughed heartily as she did so, and pulled a chair over so that he could be on eye level with her.

"It's so nice to see you, Leraen. I was rather worried about you when I had heard about your condition."

"You were worried? That's all I've been doing about you since your disappearance! Where have you been?" The Warden put a hand onto his shoulder. "The Wilds are very dangerous, I was afraid that I had lost you along with everybody else."

Fergus nodded. "They are very dangerous, indeed. Not too long after we embarked into the woods we were ambushed by darkspawn. My unit didn't make it, and I was rescued by the Chasind. They nursed me back to health and I traveled back to Denerim as soon as I could. I am very sorry that I wasn't able to send word to you any earlier, Leraen."

"You better be," Leraen smiled and hugged Fergus again. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too. I was very glad to hear that you had escaped the attack here at home, though. I was afraid that Arl Howe's men had found you too."

"Well, here I am, thanks to Duncan."

"Yes, I heard all about you becoming a Warden and all. Word of your activities still reached me even though I was living with barbarians." He smiled teasingly at Leraen. "And, the kind bard out there told me about some other things you have been up to."

Leraen lifted an eyebrow. What had Leliana told him? "Like what?"

Fergus chuckled at his sister's suspicion of him. "She told me of your activities with a certain ex-Templar. And you always claimed that you would never get married! Or have children, for that matter." He eyed her abdomen. So he knew about the child? Leraen brushed away her irritation at Leliana for telling Fergus about it. While she would have preferred to have told him herself, he was her brother, and a meddling one at that. The fact that he had already found out about her pregnancy was no surprise.

"The prospect nobles at the time were not nearly as charming as Alistair was," Leraen said simply.

"Of course they weren't." Fergus winked at his sister. "But, I am very sorry about what happened to Alistair, pup. I was heartbroken to hear that he had died." He calmly grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I am sure that the man who swept my picky sister off of her feet had to have been extraordinary."

Leraen nodded, wiped away a few stray tears, and squeezed her brother's hand in return. "He definitely was."

"You have experienced more loss in a year than anyone should have to go through in a lifetime. But, you are to be queen now, aren't you? Who would have thought that that would happen?"

"It was the only way that I thought that I would be able to keep Alistair with me, Fergus. Go ahead and call me too controlling." Leraen smiled again. "I was just afraid that we would have to separate if he became king, and Anora didn't seem like a good choice to me after she betrayed us twice," she said, recalling how Anora had lied to Ser Cauthrien at Arl Howe's estate, which resulted in her and Alistair's imprisonment at Fort Drakon. She nearly shivered as she tried to shove away the terrible memory of the torture and conditions of the dungeon. Then she recalled the lie that Anora told in front of everybody at the Landsmeet, which had caused Loghain and some of the other nobles to attack her party.

"You always liked to keep your hands in such matters." Fergus stood and patted her shoulder. "The bard out there, oh, what was her name, Leliana?" Leraen nodded to show that he pronounced her name correctly. "She told me to present this to you, and apologizes that she didn't give it to you any sooner." Out of a pocket in his tunic he pulled out a thin leather-bound book. "She said it was important that I gave it to you."

"Well, thank you."

"Have a good night, Leraen," Fergus said as he walked towards the door. "I am glad to see you safe."

"And I for you, Fergus. Sleep well," she said as she rolled towards her desk and set the ledger onto the table. She waited for her brother to exit before she opened the book; she wanted to keep its contents away from his prying eyes. She gasped as she recognized the font written on the first page of the book; it was Alistair's handwriting! She silently began to read the script.

_Dear Leraen, my rose,_

_If you are reading this, then I am terribly sorry, because that would mean that I have died while slaying the Archdemon. Please remember to give Leliana, whom I am giving this to, a good knock on the head if she presents it to you late. I know she has a horrible memory for such things, but to her credit, it was very late at night when I gave this to her, and she is the only one right now who I would know wouldn't be too extremely grumpy in the morning if I wake her and ask her to do this favor for me. Anyway, I guess getting back on subject would be a good thing, wouldn't it? You know how I tend to ramble on._

_Morrigan told me tonight about her little ritual that she explained to you before she ran off. Again, I'm so sorry, but I couldn't bring myself to take part in it. I consider myself only yours, and lending myself to her for such a shady deed scares me to death. Perhaps I am being a coward in not saying yes, but despite my hardest efforts, I couldn't bring myself to agree to her plan. Despite this, I am going to do everything I can to keep you safe tomorrow, even if that means giving up my own hide. I have a bad feeling that it won't be Riordan that slays the demon tomorrow, and I know that you feel it, too. But you would already know the outcome of the battle if you are reading this, wouldn't you?_

_I know that you will be a great queen and mother. And yes, I have seen the signs of our kid on the don't think that I would be so naive that I wouldn't notice when certain things didn't happen this month, did you? I am so overjoyed over the possibility of our coming child! Who would've guessed that it was even possible for a child to even be conceived between two Wardens? I never did._

_Please know that I love you, and while I know that you are planning to be the one to slay the Archdemon, I also know that I could never live with myself if you had sacrificed yourself for me. So, please forgive me, and don't stay angry at me for too long, or smash up my grave for leaving you in this way (which I am sure is a very tempting idea). I just can't help but protect you when you have such a bright future ahead. Don't keep yourself for me; you are too precious a lady to save for a dead man, and I don't want you to remain lonely while I am gone._

_Death is not the end, I am sure of that now. I bet that your retirement will come before you know it and we'll be together again. But anyway, I think I may go and sneak into your bedroom for some last hugs and kisses, and maybe some other things. With all of the possibilities of what tomorrow might bring, I'm pretty sure that you are still awake. Perhaps sleep will be merciful and come for us later._

_I love you, darling._

_-Your husband, Alistair_

_P.S. Do you think there is cheese in the Fade?_

Leraen giggled lightly as she read the last line in the letter. She flipped through the pages and began to get teary-eyed again; they were all filled with journal entries that Alistair had written on the journeys! Who knew that Alistair wrote so much? She read through several of them and cried as she read about his experiences with his other companions: how Morrigan would continually torment him, how Zevran would tease him, Leliana's terrible cooking, musings on how he could try to comfort Leraen when she was still grieving for the loss of her family, and how Wynne would banter with him out in the middle of the deep roads to try to keep his moral up. But she almost had to stop when she came to where the entries started to mention how he truly felt for Leraen, how he found the rose near Lothering, promises to protect her not only from the enemies that pursued them, but from the evils that they might confront in court, and to always keep her near. It was so honest, so personal, and yet she felt like he had written it for her all along.

And then, in the middle of the book, she found a pressed red rose between the pages. So that's where it went! Leraen hadn't been able to find the rose since the night before the siege of Denerim. She smiled as she gently lifted it out and examined it; it was still in the same condition it had been in since she had last seen it. She twirled it between her fingers, eying the dark red hue and beauty that the dried flower still possessed. She shed a tear for the one who had given it to her.

Leraen sighed; it was time to start remembering Alistair in the good things, and not the bad, and she felt like the ledger and what was written inside of it might help her to remember that. She hugged the book to her chest and decided that she would keep it close to her. It carried too much of him to throw away.

"I love you, Alistair," she whispered as she laid the book onto her nightstand and blew out the lamp.

Sleep came and took her swiftly, where she dreamed of happier times with Alistair, and not the tragedy of his death.


	4. In Uthenera

Leliana pushed Leraen down to the cemetery where the ceremony was to take place that morning. The air was cold, the sky was overcast, and breezes blew by, singing their sad laments through the leaves of the nearby trees. _What a perfect day for a funeral_, Leraen thought solemnly, sighing while she smoothed the long skirt of her black dress. If Alistair had been able to attend his own ceremony, he would have been rather disappointed, since the mood of those who had gathered was very gloomy and dark. That thought saddened her further; she knew that he would have hated the stifling grimness that hung over the present audience. She could feel that everyone could feel it lingering through the silence that echoed in the graveyard too - hardly anyone said a word as they gathered in front of Alistair's coffin.

Leraen was surprised at the size of the turn-out to the funeral. It seemed that truly every noble in Ferelden – and some who were below that rank – had come to pay their respects to the man who would have become their king. The size of the black-clad crowd really did make Leraen feel grateful for their attendance.

Leraen sighed once again in an attempt to keep her composure once Leliana had wheeled her up to the lidless coffin so that she could see inside. He looked so still in his casket; so serene, as if he was only sleeping. She couldn't help but remember his chuckle, his smile, and his corny jokes as she stared at his empty body. She sincerely missed how he would love to make people laugh. Through all those sweet memories that she began to recall, she couldn't let go of the recollection of the love that he would so generously lavish upon her. She really missed him.

Soon the chanter who was hired to conduct the ceremony began his sermon on the afterlife and the Maker, but Leraen didn't listen - she couldn't peel her eyes off of her husband's still body. It had only been a few days ago that he had seemed to have been filled to the brim with life and hope. They were so full of joy by just being together that while they could acknowledge that either of them could perish before their mission was complete, she knew that in her heart she believed that nothing like that would ever happen. She had fully convinced herself that they would rule with each other until it was time to retire, and then die together in a glorious battle against the darkspawn in the Deep Roads. She shook her head. Those were just romantic and naïve notions that were driven by nothing but their passion for each other and eagerness for what they trusted their future to hold for them. They had been so wrong.

Suddenly, she couldn't push out the image of him dying next to her. The hopeful feelings that she had felt the night before about her husband's death were gone as she stared at his face. How she wished for one more smile to form on his lips! She remembered how sweetly he used to caress her when she was upset. She could still feel the weak, soft touch of his hand on her cheek and the chill of his own blood as he unknowingly smeared it across her face on the day that he had died on the top of that dreadful tower. How that touch had seemed so precious at that moment, and now, since she knew that she would never feel that cherished touch from her beloved again.

But here, at his funeral and in front of his casket, she couldn't shake off the feeling of abandonment that she was experiencing. She was now alone to take care of not only herself, but soon Alistair's child and the entire country of Ferelden. How she wished that Alistair was still here with her! The job both as ruler and parent seemed to be too large for her to do by herself. The realization of how big the burden of responsibility would grow to become terrified her. But whenever that would happen, she would just have to remember that Alistair had laid himself down for her so that she could forfeit what had been given to her. He had believed in her, and because of his sacrifice, she knew that she would have to start believing in herself.

Once the chanter was finished, Leliana pushed Leraen's wheelchair even closer to Alistair's casket so she could lay the red rose that she carried onto his chest. She thought that the choice of flower was very fitting. She was his rose to him, and yet she had felt the same way to Alistair. He was a light in the darkness, the rose among the thorns, which he had called her on a countless number of occasions. It was with him that Leraen had found the hope to keep going, to fight until the Blight was through. And it was there that she decided that would be the same hope that would propel her through whatever trials were to come.

Leraen dipped her head down; she could no longer hold back her tears. She began to sob as they closed the lid to the coffin. That was it. It had really happened: Alistair was officially gone. She wouldn't ever be able to see his face again; to stroke his hair or brush his lips with her own. She so desired his presence and love back terribly. How would she be able to rule, even live, without him by her side?

The child - that was how she would go on. She had to live for her babe, his babe. She couldn't let herself succumb to despair. That wouldn't be what Alistair would want, would it? Of course it wouldn't be. Yes, she would keep going for him. His memory would remain as her motivation, her hope, and so would the happiness that came with the thought of his coming child.

The chanter began to lead the mourners in a hymn to the Maker as Alistair's coffin began to be lowered into the ground. Leraen couldn't bring herself to sing along with them; she wouldn't sing praises to the god who wasn't strong enough to prevent her husband's death.

The hymn soon ended, and the mourners started to depart for the reception that was to be held in the castle in a short period of time, but Leraen couldn't look away from the casket that was deep inside the ground. Workers soon came to the grave site and began to fill the cavity with dirt. Oh, how could he be dead inside that hole?

"Leraen, I'm so sorry," Leliana said at the sight of her friend's tears. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to the Warden before she pulled out another for herself. "He loved you very much." She dabbed at her wet eyes with the cloth.

"Thank you, Leliana." Leraen wiped away her own tears. The two didn't say anything more; nothing else was needed to be said. They instead stayed at Alistair's grave in a silent state of thought and respect for their fallen friend.

After a few long minutes, Leliana finally spoke. "Should we go to the reception now? They're probably waiting on us to arrive," she asked at length once she felt that she was able to. As much as she hated to leave, Leraen nodded an answer.

"Sleep well, darling," Leraen whispered while Leliana wheeled her back toward the castle.

The grim atmosphere that was in the hall in which the reception was taking place was the first thing that Leraen noticed as she and Leliana stepped in through the outside corridor. Many of the nobles nodded in her direction with a small smile as they entered, but most of them ignored the Warden and her companion and continued with their annoying chatter. Some of the guests came forward, greeted Leraen, gave her their condolences, and wished her well, which she did appreciate. It was good to see that not all the nobles were so arrogant that they had become ignorant of how important Alistair's sacrifice had been.

The time for the eulogies came more quickly than anyone could anticipate. A couple of Alistair's friends stood at the end of the hall as they made their speeches. Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan, and Wynne all took turns, one after the other, to speak for their fallen comrade and friend. They told of his character, his personality, how brave he had been, praised his commitment to duty, and lamented over how much he would surely be missed. Leraen found her eyes wetting up well before it was her turn to speak.

Next was Leliana's turn, and with teary eyes and her lute slung over her shoulder, she walked to take her spot at the end of the hall in front of where their audience had gathered. Leraen noted that her shoulders were visibly quaking, perhaps from her attempts to quell her sorrow. "I am afraid that I am not used to speaking in front of people like this," she said as she wiped away at the moisture that had leaked onto her cheeks. "But I have discovered that notes can communicate far more than words can tell. So rather than speak for Alistair, I suppose that I will sing for him; it is the only way that I know how to wish farewell to such a dear friend."

It was then that she pulled out her lute, took a deep breath to calm her trembling body, and began to play.

Leraen had to stifle an audible sob as she recognized the tune. It was an elven folk song, In Uthenera, if she recalled correctly, that Leliana had played for her before a long time ago. The bard began to pluck the strings in an arpeggiated melody in a sorrowful minor key, swelling with the gives and pulls of the lilting phrases, letting the melancholy feeling of the lament lead her through the harmonies. She began to sing the lyrics in Elven, for even though Leraen was sure the audience could not fully understand what the beautiful words meant, the power in the poetry of the song remained more fully intact in its original language.

_Hahren na melana sahlin,_

_Emma ir abelas._

_Souver'inan isala hamin,_

_Vhenan him dor'felas._

_In uthenera na revas._

She then repeated back to the verse, playing the harmony in a higher octave and sang again, this time in the common tongue to translate what had been previously voiced.

Elder your time is come,

Now I am filled with sorrow.

Weary eyes need resting,

Heart has become grey and slow.

In waking sleep is freedom.

Leliana pressed on into the chorus, driving the melody into a temporary modulation into a major key. Glistening tears shone on her face as she looked up to the ceiling and closed her eyes. The lyrics returned once more to sing in Elven.

_Vir sulahn'nehn,_

_Vir dirthera._

_Vir samahl la numin,_

_Vir lath sa'vunin._

With one last mournful reprise, Leliana returned to the chorus, singing it in the common tongue.

We sing, rejoice,

We tell the tales.

We laugh and cry,

We love one more day.

The hall rang with the harmonious chords as Leliana brought the song to a close. Even after the echoes finished, the audience remained silent, with no applause, no response to the song other than the occasional sob that sounded from some of the particularly touched individuals. Leliana quietly slung the lute back over her shoulder and walked away from her place in the hall; she brought a hand to her mouth, let her teary reddening eyes become downcast, and hurriedly exited through the back door. She must have not been able to heed off her sadness any longer.

Leraen sighed; it was her turn. She hesitated as she braced herself against the grief that began to wash over her. Before she realized what she was doing, she was wheeling down to where she would speak and found herself at the end of the hall in front of her audience. She paused before she spoke as she tried to remember what she had prepared to say. She swallowed, wiped her eyes with the handkerchief that Leliana gave her, and began to speak.

"First of all, I would like to thank all of you for attending Alistair's service." With more than an ounce of difficulty, she thinly smiled at the crowd before her. "I think Alistair would have been pleased to know that so many people would have appreciated him and his actions enough to attend his funeral."

Some of the crowd gently nodded at her words, some while smiling, and some while dabbing their handkerchiefs at their eyes that were wet with tears.

"I have to be honest; I'm not sure how I can tell you all how wonderful, brave, and selfless Alistair was in a eulogy that is supposed to be short." She once again wiped away her own tears.

"He was such a complicated and good man for whom it is difficult to be able to squeeze a summary about him into a nutshell; I could go on for hours about his character, his loyalty, his altruism. But such a dilemma isn't something that will keep me from speaking - I owe Alistair much more than this.

"Alistair was very devoted to his country and the people he loved, as he showed in how he had chosen to die in my stead, in our stead. He was very loving, and kind, and gentle..." her voice trailed off. She knew that they probably didn't want to hear about her feelings towards him, so she picked a more logical approach. "If it wasn't for Alistair, then I wouldn't be here, standing before you today.

"Alistair did what many of us would never be able to bring ourselves to do. In order to save his people and his kingdom, he struck the killing blow onto the Archdemon, knowing full well what the consequences were for committing himself to such an action. He died so that you and I would not have to be in fear of the Darkspawn, but gave himself up for the chance that we would be able to live instead of receiving our inevitable fate of being slain by those monsters.

"He, sadly, never had the chance to rule on his rightful throne, but he did more good for his people through his noble deeds than many kings have ever done in their lifetimes." She stopped for a moment and tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to take over her voice. She wiped away the relentless tears that had replaced the others, and resumed speaking. "I will miss Alistair very much, and I hate that I was never given the opportunity that was promised to me of being able to stand beside him as his queen. But I will never forget about him or his love for me and his country, nor take his sacrifice for granted. His death brought a gift to all of us: the start of a new life, which will be treasured and held sacred even in his absence."

Leraen thanked her audience before she rolled away from the end of the hall to show that she had finished. The teary-eyed audience nodded to her in silence as she rolled by. Those who she was familiar with reached out and put a hand on her shoulder or shook her hand, and she was grateful to them for their efforts in comforting her.

It wasn't long after the meal that their guests began to depart. One by one Leraen greeted them and thanked them for attending before they left. Once the guests were gone, she saw that travelers who needed to stay the night at the castle had a room to sleep in, and then finally retired to her own room.

The guests who had stayed in the rooms beside Leraen's room said that they could hear changes from weeping to laughing throughout most of the night coming from her bedroom. They didn't dare disturb her, though. It was quite apparent to them that she had gone through a hard enough day as it was.

Leraen later explained when their worried questions finally reached her that it was different reveries that would simply not allow her to sleep, as she remembered his loving touch and languished over the empty place on the bed beside her, longed for his sweet voice as she suffered in the deafening silence, recalled upon the beautiful memories that they had shared together, and deplored the harsh reality that she would not create any more of them with her king.


	5. Landsmeet

Arl Eamon shook his head at the argument that was raging on between the nobles around him. He wasn't even sure if they really remembered what they had gathered together for by the way they had continuously hurled insults at each other.

It had been two days since Alistair's funeral, and another Landsmeet had already been called by Arl Keiran of the West Hills, which had been a great surprise to everyone. The Landsmeet was supposed to be an annual event, not something that could be called whenever a noble had a complaint. And to Eamon, that was all that Keiran seemed to have.

The man was a handsome but very deceitful and selfish politician, and had somehow intercepted a messenger who carried a letter that was meant for the First Enchanter Irving at the Circle of Magi. The letter was from one of the healer magi and a member of the Warden's former traveling party, Wynne, who helped to bring Leraen Cousland on the mend after the battle with the Archdemon. The message merely asked for some medical supplies for their soon-to-be queen, such as balms and salves for her injured leg, broken ankle, and other wounds, since the supplies that they had been using were nearly depleted by the soldiers who were injured during the Darkspawn siege of Denerim were in desperate need of care for their own injuries and wounds.

Unfortunately, the letter also told of the Lady Cousland's newly discovered pregnancy, and asked for a few herbs and teas that could be used to promote Leraen and her child's prenatal well-being. It said nothing of her relations to Alistair, or the marriage that had occurred between the two of them.

Arl Keiran was delighted to bring such gossip to light, and claimed that Lady Cousland's pregnancy was a problem worthy of the heated discussion that came along with a meeting such as the Landsmeet. He truly believed, even after the events that ended the Blight, that Leraen was not worthy of the title of Queen of Ferelden. He used the evidence of the unborn child that he found in the letter as a reason to accuse her of careless mistakes that would supposedly make her rule as queen devastating for their country, according to him, of course.

Keiran had made terrible accusations of the lady, such as "toying" with other men out of wedlock while being betrothed to Alistair, which were unprovable actions that he scorned her for. Eamon was disgusted at how he verbally treated her through his ridiculous and hypocritical claims, since Keiran had sought out more than his fair share of love affairs and could be linked to many illegitimate children, and he wasn't married, either. Those facts made Eamon believe that he had little reason to accuse Leraen of the terrible things that he had accused her of.

Of course, Eamon knew that the babe that Lady Cousland bore wasn't a bastard child. She and Alistair thought that they had concealed that they had married each other the night after the last Landsmeet, but what had really happened between the two was very obvious to the Arl. He had noticed the couple sneak off in the middle of the night just to return an hour or two later, saw the sweet, secret looks that they gave each other, and had seen the silver rings that both Alistair and Leraen wore the next morning that they hadn't worn the day before. He had also spoken to one of the chantresses at the chantry the next day who confirmed that his suspicions about the marriage were true, since she had been a witness of the small marriage ceremony.

He hadn't said anything to the couple about their union. He knew that they were under a lot of stress with the Blight and their upcoming rule, so he decided to play along and pretend that he didn't know anything about their elopement. He was certain that they would have another chance for a more formal ceremony. After all, the couple had already survived that far, and there had been too many things that should have already caused their deaths. Truly if they were meant to be slain they would have already been killed by one of the thousands of dangers they had faced during their journey.

But Eamon had been wrong. It turned out that in order for the Archdemon to be killed it required a Grey Warden to give up his or her own life, and it had not been Riordan, who was planned to sacrifice himself, who had given himself to the dragon. Alistair had chosen himself to be the sacrificial lamb, leaving Leraen behind to rule and raise his child alone. Eamon truly felt sorry for the lady. The grief and sorrow that he had seen in her eyes at Alistair's funeral was immense and nearly unbearable for him to see. Eamon knew that she was on a difficult road to travel now: not only had she turned into a widowed mother-to-be, but a single queen without a partner to assist her. Both were incredibly hard jobs, and were difficult enough to carry out separately, let alone in combination with each other.

"Leraen Cousland will never be fit to rule our beloved Ferelden!" Arl Keiran shouted from across the hall, rousing Eamon from his thoughts. So they were back on the subject now? He was slightly disappointed. The verbal accusatory combat was rather amusing to listen to.

"I would like to remind you of who led the battle against the Archdemon and saved all of our lives," Bann Teagan said, who stood next to Eamon. He was just as infuriated at the accusations against Leraen as Eamon was, if not more so. Eamon knew that Teagan greatly respected and admired her; the meeting must have been incredibly difficult for Teagan to watch. He clenched his fists and held them steadfast at his sides, and they slightly trembled as he continued to hold his temper at bay. "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be alive now, would we? The least that we could do for her is to give the lady our trust."

The crowd murmured their various opinions to each other in response to Teagan's comment.

"Last time I checked, it wasn't the Lady Cousland who struck the killing blow upon the dragon, Maker rest his soul," Keiran said.

Eamon shook his head in disgust. Hadn't he been in opposition to Alistair's rule at the last Landsmeet? "If I recall correctly, Arl Keiran, it wasn't Alistair that you were in favor of at the last time we met," he voiced.

The man nearly snarled at Eamon like a wild animal that was backed into a corner. "What choice did we have? Alistair was an inexperienced commoner who knew nothing about ruling a country. Loghain did what he had to do to protect Ferelden. To put the Theirin on the throne would be suicide! Anora needs to receive her rightful place on the throne. Hadn't it already been determined that it had been she who had ruled while Cailan was king?"

"We do not need another heartless ruler like her father to rule Ferelden," Arl Diran of South Reach said. "Haven't we already had enough bloodshed? It had been Anora who had set up Alistair and the Lady Cousland to be brought to Fort Drakon, and it was later discovered that she had turned on them at the last Landsmeet."

"Such things are debatable," the bann of Oswin argued. "It can't be proved either way."

"Anora had deceived the Warden," Teagan spoke again. "Leraen would never capture her. She had thought that Anora was in danger."

Eamon nodded in agreement. "Lady Cousland was led to believe that it was Loghain who had imprisoned his daughter."

"Either way, could we really trust such a careless whore to properly rule our country?" Keiran began to pace. "She had no right to have such relations with Alistair, if we can even prove that he was even the child's father."

"Lady Cousland was very close to Alistair. It is very unlikely that the child's father would be anyone else."

"But does that excuse her rash actions? It doesn't really change anything, does it?"

"I would like to remind you that she was betrothed to the man, Keiran," Diran spoke again. He looked up and nodded at Eamon. He was an adamant supporter for the Lady's spot on the throne, and Eamon was grateful for his help.

"There has been a rumor about Lady Cousland eloping along with Alistair after the Landsmeet," the bann of Dragon's Peak said. "How true is it?"

Eamon hesitated for a bit before speaking. Leraen's marriage could save her chances for becoming queen by showing the child she was bearing wasn't conceived out of wedlock or condemn her chances by making her decision to marry look reckless and rash. He hesitated for a long moment before he resolved to tell the truth, and turned to face the bann who had asked the question.

"The two of them truly believed they were going to die before the Blight ended. In order to bring themselves some solace and peace before they faced their deaths, they were married to each other the night after the Landsmeet."

Eamon's confession stirred the gathered crowd as they started to loudly talk to each other about the newly learned information.

"Silence, please!" Eamon shouted. The nobles began to quiet down as he prepared to speak again.

"There you have it; the child was not conceived out of wedlock. Was it such a sin to marry when they were already betrothed to each other? They thought that they would never get the opportunity to hold the pompous ceremony that we tend to deem necessary for a royal marriage. And it has turned out that they were right, hasn't it?" There was no immediate response to Eamon's comment.

"The least we could do in return for their heroic actions is to allow Lady Cousland to rule in Alistair's stead in his honor. Isn't that what he would have wanted if he knew he was going to die?" Teagan added.

"She is a widowed woman who is too emotionally scarred to deal with the responsibilities that come with the throne," Keiran argued. Eamon shook his head; the man seemed to never run out of rebuttals. "It doesn't matter what Alistair would have wanted. After all, he's dead now, isn't he?"

The crowd murmured with disapproval at the man's disrespect towards the dead Hero of Ferelden. He had proved himself to be quite the chameleon.

"For someone who had just lost her partner, she seemed to be very controlled at her husband's funeral, which would be the place to invoke such strong emotions, wouldn't it?" Arl Joryn, the new arl of Denerim, said. "I think it would be a good thing to have a woman who has gone through so many hardships as she has on the throne. Her experiences, while they may not be in ruling, could help her protect Ferelden and empathize with her subjects."

Many of the nobles in the crowd nodded in agreement.

"But she is a mother who is soon to rule Ferelden on her own. Hadn't we agreed before that the two jobs are too big for one woman?" the bann of Oswin asked again.

"Then we betroth her to another noble. Is an arranged marriage so hard an idea to grasp?" Joryn spoke again. "She would have aid for both ruling Ferelden and raising her child."

The two Guerrins looked at each other in response to Joryn's proposal. Such an idea didn't sit well with either of them, since they both shared the feeling that Leraen wouldn't be very happy marrying anyone else so soon after Alistair's death. Such an idea even struck Eamon as disrespectful. However, Keiran had no response to Joryn's idea. Perhaps this way they would be able to keep Leraen on the throne and keep the Theirin bloodline going.

Eamon shook his head before he started the motion. He was filled with guilt over the decision he was about to make, especially in the lady's absence. However, he felt that the alternative was worse. It would truly be best to reserve the throne for her, and he would do whatever it took to see her one day don a crown. He sighed; Leraen would not appreciate him for this. "All in favor of arranging a marriage and making Leraen Cousland our queen, say aye."

The loud voices of agreement filled the hall as the nobles voiced their opinions. The nays that followed were not nearly as strong.

"Then it is decided. Candidates for the engagement to Lady Cousland will be decided on very soon. The marriage will be planned to happen before her child's birth, and the coronation will take place not long after. This meeting is dismissed."

Teagan, with his mouth agape, stared at his brother in disbelief. "What are you thinking?" he nearly shouted. "Who do you think you are to make this sort of decision for her?"

"What would you rather have us do? Put Anora on the throne in Leraen's place?" Eamon answered. "We don't have many other choices, and I will not have that lying woman in charge of our country."

"You know I wouldn't either, brother. But should we really have Leraen marry so soon after Alistair's death and right before the birth of his child without a period of time for her to properly mourn her husband? It is such very bad timing to make a grieving woman go through something so drastic."

"Perhaps it is, Teagan. But I know it will be better than our other options." Eamon sighed as Teagan grudgingly nodded.

"If you say so, brother. I leave this decision, and whatever consequences it may ultimately cause, in your apparently capable hands." He walked off to join the Arlessa Isolde, and they both stood in the hallway as they waited for Eamon to join them.

Eamon closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. Maker's breath! How was he going to convince the woman to marry again?


	6. The Betrothal

Leliana quickly stepped through the quiet corridors of Castle Cousland towards Leraen's bedroom. They were still in Highever so that the Warden could have more time to visit with her brother before they returned to Denerim, which Leraen had seemed to appreciate. Fergus had been very supportive of his sister through this tough time for her, and Leliana thought that he did a very good job of comforting her whenever she felt sad about Alistair's death or started to severely miss him.

But that was not all that worried Leliana that day. Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan, and some of their guards had come to Highever to speak to Leraen about something that they had claimed to be very important. Leliana thought that she knew what they had come for, though. She had heard the guards talk about the outcome of the latest Landsmeet as they took care of the party's horses while she was taking her morning walk by the stables. To force Leraen to marry another noble? What were they thinking? It had only been two weeks since Alistair's death, and Leraen's grief had hardly waned. Did they really think that she would agree to take part in an arranged marriage just so that she could become queen?

They, obviously, never had the chance to know Leraen Cousland. Leliana thought that she would marry for love a million times before marrying another selfish noble just so that she could obtain a fancy title. Leliana would honestly be very surprised if Leraen agreed to the new conditions for her to become queen. Maker's breath, she had just lost her husband and was carrying his child! The Warden was very stubborn, and it was rare to make her change her mind when she had made a decision for herself, as Leliana expected her to do in this instance.

But then again, her friend had surprised her before.

Leliana sighed as she arrived at the door to Leraen's bedroom. She began to raise her hand to knock, but then hesitated. Did she really want to become the bearer of bad news?

She was just following orders. Eamon had asked her to fetch Leraen so that he could talk with her. She sighed again and hit her fist against the door a couple times.

"Coming," she heard the Warden say from behind the door. It was about a minute before Leraen came and greeted Leliana.

Leliana forgot why she had come to talk to Leraen for a moment once she had met her at the door. Her eyes were red and her cheeks looked raw and moist from her tears. Her pale skin betrayed her attempts to stay calm and the dark circles under her eyes gave proof to the fact that she wasn't getting much sleep at night. This only fueled Leliana's belief that the insensitive nobles had no regard to what a bad time it was to ask the lady to do such a thing like marrying someone who she didn't know.

Leliana was glad to see the Warden out of her wheelchair, though. Wynne must have decided that it was time for Leraen to be promoted from the chair to a supportive splint for her ankle.

"Oh, good morning, Leliana," Leraen said softly, as if her voice would betray her and break. She tried to paste a fake smile onto her face.

Leliana admired the Warden's attention to her responsibility, obligation, and sense of duty, but she wished that her accursed pride wouldn't cause her to feel like she had to appear to be strong all the time. Even though she was a Grey Warden, and a hero in Leliana's opinion, she was still very human, and had feelings like the rest of them that were especially delicate now.

"Good morning, Leraen." Leliana smiled back at her friend. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better, thanks for asking." She wiped at her eyes, which the bard could tell were threatening to start watering again.

Leliana swallowed. She was so tempted to tell Leraen of what she had heard down at the stables, but she knew that it wouldn't put her into an ideal situation for when she would go and talk to Eamon. Still, she did not want to be the one to tell her to go and speak with the man.

"Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan are here to visit with us," she started. Asking Leraen to go and talk with them would be easier to do if set it up through little steps, Leliana thought.

"They are? Is it about the last Landsmeet?"

Leliana was surprised. She knew that the nobles had called another meeting? Well, she thought she was going to become queen, after all. Leliana supposed paying more attention to politics and such was rather necessary for Leraen.

"I believe it is. Eamon asked if you could go and talk to him once you felt you were able to."

Leraen nodded. "I'll be down to speak with him as soon as I'm dressed," she said, looking at the nightgown and robe that she still wore.

"I'll tell him that, Leraen." The Warden thanked her and smiled again before she closed the door.

Leliana walked back up the hallway to where Eamon and Teagan were sitting in the main hall. She certainly hoped that the conversation that Eamon wished to have with Leraen wouldn't crush her; Alistair's death had already thrust her into such a state.

Leraen sighed and closed the door as Leliana walked down the corridor to her room. She did not wish to go and talk to Eamon, for she had no doubt that he was here to talk to her about the outcome of the last Landsmeet.

Her body so wished for more rest, which she knew was very out of reach. Getting sleep was not a possibility right now. Her dreams were being haunted by images of the body of her cold, dead husband or what had happened at the battle with the Archdemon.

Perhaps it was her lack of sleep or the tired, numb emotional state that she was currently in, but she had begun to "see" Alistair around her bedroom. She had seen him some days just as he would have been at camp during the Blight; perhaps lounging around waiting for her company while gnawing on a wedge of cheese or playing with the dog, but he was never really there. Those hallucinations really caused her to feel worse when she realized once again that Alistair was really gone, and that the possibility of him coming back was nonexistent. All those ideas had kept her awake through most of the night, even though her fragile body was almost always begging for some respite from the emotional abuse.

But now was not the time to grieve her loss of sleep, nor the loss of her husband. It was time for her to tend to her duties and speak with Eamon, no matter how much she dreaded the conversation.

She trudged to her wardrobe to pick out a dress for the day. She still wasn't used to the more formal attire that she was required to wear as a noble, even though it was all she had worn before she was recruited by Duncan to become a Grey Warden. She finally made up her mind and chose an olive silk gown with a cream-colored lacy trim. She still felt that the gowns that had been recently made and fitted for her by the local tailor were not only impractical since they wouldn't fit her for long, but were far too elaborate to be worn by someone like her. Her leather armor, which hung next to the wall of the left side of her wardrobe, felt familiar and right for her to wear. But, sadly, such clothing was not needed or expected to be worn by a lady who was soon to be queen.

She got dressed and braided her brown hair before finally exiting her bedroom and descending through the corridor to the main hall. Inside sat both Bann Teagan and Arl Eamon around the round table at the center of the room. The men seemed rather pensive at the moment, but looked up as she entered.

"Ah, Lady Cousland." Eamon greeted her as the two men stood up out of their chairs and bowed. "It is a pleasure to see you."

"The pleasure is mine." Leraen curtsied in return. "I trust you both had a safe trip here?"

"We did, thank you for asking," Teagan replied.

"Well, as I am sure Leliana told you, I have something that I wish to talk to you about," Eamon said. "If you would follow me, please." He indicated her father's old office that was adjacent to the hall, into which both Leraen and Eamon entered.

Leraen took her seat as Eamon closed the door behind him. She didn't like his demeanor; he was acting as if what he needed to talk to her about wasn't exactly pleasant. But how could it be pleasant? He had just come from another Landsmeet, after all, and she had a feeling that the reason it had been called on such short notice was because of her. The Landsmeet was an annual meeting, not something that was called when a noble got bored and needed someone to yell at, no matter how many the meetings sometimes resembled those behaviors.

"I trust that you've been feeling better? You look healthier than when I last saw you, and I am glad to see you on your own two feet," Eamon said as he sat down across from her.

"I have been feeling well, thank you," she said.

"I know what you've been going through has been hard. It's never easy to lose a loved one."

"No, it never is."

"Alistair was a good man."

"Yes, he was."

A couple seconds of awkward silence passed. Leraen could have sworn that Eamon was stalling in telling her what he really needed to talk to her about.

"Well, Arl Keiran of the Northern Hills had called a Landsmeet. Teagan and I have just returned from it." Eamon began to look down at his folded hands that he placed in his lap.

"So I've heard. What was it about?"

Eamon hesitated before speaking.

"He intercepted the letter Wynne wrote to Irving, Leraen."

"He did, now?" Leraen then started to become nervous. Keiran had always been very selfish and deceitful, as she had seen at the Landsmeets that she had attended with her father when he was still alive. That letter that Wynne had written was request for herbs and medical supplies for Irving to send to them, but Leraen was afraid that Wynne may have mentioned Leraen's pregnancy. She shivered. Keiran was probably trying to use that evidence against her. She swallowed and braced herself for the news Eamon was about to give her.

Eamon cleared his throat. "Yes, he did. He found out about Alistair's child in the letter. He doesn't want you to become queen, Leraen."

"Well, not everyone is going to be very happy about having me become queen instead of Anora."

"He put up a pretty good argument to why you shouldn't inherit the throne. I am concerned that some of the other nobles who were present believed it, too."

Leraen sighed; this was no time to begin to follow rabbit trails. "All right, Eamon. Please, just tell me. What is it that you really wanted to speak to me about?"

Eamon once again paused before answering.

"The Landsmeet decided that in order for you to become queen that there will have to be a marriage arranged between you and another noble."

The Warden was dumbfounded and found she was speechless. How could those nobles think that she could marry so soon after losing Alistair? How could they be so insensitive? Surely her actions that she made during the Blight were enough to prove her worthy of the job as their queen.

"I'm very sorry, Leraen. Proposing that you marry someone else was the only way we could keep your spot on the throne and preserve the royal bloodline."

"Is the bloodline all that you care about, now?" Leraen took a deep breath in a vain attempt to control her frustration. "I can't believe this. Maker's breath, let Anora have her throne!"

"Leraen, we both know that the last thing that Ferelden needs right now is another ruler like Loghain. How she lied and turned her backs on us before and during the Landsmeet made me very suspicious of her, as I am sure it made you feel, also. And wouldn't you want Alistair's child to inherit what rightfully belongs to him?"

Leraen crossed her arms. "Eamon, the reason that I proposed that I marry Alistair and become queen was so that we could be together after he became king. He didn't want the throne, and neither did I! But I think that he would want me to do what I thought was best for my child and I, and I don't think an arranged marriage would be in our best interests."

"But what about your country?" Eamon argued. "You stated at the funeral that Alistair's sense of duty was an inspiring trait of him. If this is so, don't you think that he would want you to do what is best for Ferelden? Being both a parent and a ruler separately is hard enough. Wouldn't you agree that the roles of both mother and queen would be too big a job for one person?"

"But what about my child and me? Shouldn't I be putting us first? You suggest that I marry a noble, who may have some undesirable character flaws, as I've seen that most nobles do, who would rather have his own child on the throne as opposed to Alistair's? Such a thing doesn't sound like such a good idea to me."

"You haven't even heard who I was planning on having you betrothed to. How can you assume such a thing of your future husband when you don't even who he is?"

Leraen sighed. He was right, but she didn't want to admit that he was, or give in to his plan. How could she marry someone else? The only person that she had ever loved was Alistair, and she couldn't imagine herself ever having such feelings for any other man.

But deep down, she knew that putting Anora on the throne would not be a good idea. The lady reminded Leraen so much of her father that it sent chills down her spine. Eamon was very right in being so adamant about keeping Anora off of the throne; the last thing that Fereldan needed was another ruler who led like Loghain did. She also knew that correctly raising her child and ruling her country would be very difficult to be done on her own. Perhaps having another person to help with both roles as ruler and parent would be a good thing.

However, she still cringed at the thought of being married to anyone other than Alistair.

"Who do you have in mind to engage me to?" She finally forced herself to ask. She hated the fact that she was even considering cooperating with his plan, but it was, perhaps, necessary.

"Well, that's what I've been pondering lately, myself." He smiled when she asked the question, which showed to him that she may be accepting the fact that an arranged marriage was the right thing to agree to. "But I have come to the conclusion that perhaps having you marry Bann Teagan would be the best option, since he has had both combat experience from the siege on Denerim and the assault on Redcliffe and is experienced in ruling, since he was the Bann of Rainesfere for quite a bit of time."

Leraen winced as Eamon mentioned the Bann's name. At least Teagan didn't seem to be as snobby and corrupt like the rest of the nobles from what she had observed from his behavior. He was quite the gentleman, actually, and had been quite kind and had showed admiration to Leraen in the past. While she still hated the idea of being betrothed to another noble, if it absolutely had to happen, she would pick him. "Would there be any way that I could be given more time to properly grieve Alistair's passing? This all just feels so rushed."

"Well, you see, we don't want to have a steward on your throne for too long. Fereldan has gone through enough confusion to deal with a substitute ruler for longer than a couple months, and, well, expectant brides aren't exactly popular right now. We thought that your subjects might think you as more becoming if we married you and Teagan before you started to show."

Leraen rolled her eyes; why did everything have to be about appearances? It felt like such a facade. She was just about to spit out a retort when she realized that he did have a point. Even though she desperately wished for more time to grieve over Alistair, Fereldan needed its permanent rulers as quickly as possible and she needed to win over her subjects.

"Will we release the truth about to whom my babe belongs, though? Even if Teagan and I marry in a month or two, we would have to explain how I would show so soon after my wedding day."

"Yes, we will tell them the truth about how you and Alistair married and who your child belongs to. For all I know, the news could already be progressing towards becoming common knowledge. The nobles already know about it, and you know how quickly news travels around here."

Leraen nodded in agreement, but she was so shocked from the new turn of events that she had to remind herself to breathe. "Could you give me more time to make a decision?" She finally asked.

The older man nodded an answer. "Of course, dear. I know that this was rather unexpected."

Leraen thanked him and rose from her seat. Her nerves from the very idea of an arranged marriage were starting to make her feel nauseous, and she even felt dizzy from standing up too quickly. "Then if you would excuse me, I am going to go and get a breath of fresh air." She turned on her heel and walked out of the room before the Arl could say anything more to her.

She walked into the hall and out to the gardens while she did her best to ignore Teagan who still sat at the round table in the center of the room. She currently had no wish to talk to man who she may be forced to marry.

The sound of birds singing greeted her as she opened the door and stepped outside. She then followed the cobblestone path to the graveyard and walked to the gravestone that marked where Alistair had been buried. Newly planted red rose bushes bloomed all around both Alistair and Duncan's graves. She walked to one of the bushes and plucked off a flower and placed it on Alistair's gravestone.

"Good morning, darling. I miss you." She sat down on the stone bench that had been placed in front of his grave. She sighed in an attempt to suppress the sobs that she felt coming to her and wiped away the tears that streaked her face; she had shed too many of those during the past two weeks.

She shook her head; she couldn't seem to comprehend the crossroad that she had come upon. How could she marry Teagan?

And then, as if on cue, the creak of the door from the hall broke her thoughts. The sound of footsteps on the cobblestone grew louder as Leraen's visitor drew closer. She didn't even dare to look at him as he came and sat down next to her on the bench.

"I am so very sorry, my lady." Teagan said simply when he sat down next to her. "I know that this is a bit much to swallow. It is for me, at least."

Leraen stayed silent for a couple moments. She didn't wish to speak to him. But if she did decide to cooperate with Eamon's plan, they would have to at least get along, wouldn't they? She sighed and decided that now would be as good a time as ever to say something to him. Being childish and silent to Teagan wouldn't exactly help their relationship; after all, he had done nothing wrong. For all that she knew he could be trying to protect her from how terrifying and painful a new marriage could become.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry, Teagan." She wiped away at the relentless tears again. She didn't want him to see her like this. She was the Leraen Cousland, who had a major part in slaying the Archdemon and ending the Blight. She wasn't supposed to be getting so upset over something that was as common as an arranged marriage. She was born a noble, and thus was born for the very purpose of being given away. But even the years of preparation she had grown up with didn't make the decision that she faced any easier to make. "But please, don't call me lady," she said with a weak smile. "We've been through enough to get past the pleasantries."

"Fair enough, Leraen." He plucked a rose from a bush that grew near the bench. "How much did Eamon tell you while you were in the office?"

Leraen swallowed before she spoke; the very idea of speaking about the marriage created a knot in her stomach. "He told me about the conditions that were set at the Landsmeet for me to become queen and who he wished for me to marry." She knowingly glanced at the man beside her.

Teagan nodded. "'Tis a rather ridiculous situation, if you ask me. What the Landsmeet decided on was unfair since you were not present to express your own opinion. Most of the nobles who had attended didn't even seem to consider the fact that you had recently lost Alistair."

"How do you feel about the whole ordeal?" Leraen continued to look at him inquiringly. "About them having us marry each other, I mean?"

"I feel that you, my lady, is who our country needs as its ruler right now, and I will do whatever is necessary to help you claim the throne, however unfair or insensitive our predicament may seem."

"Even if it means marrying a woman you hardly know who is carrying a child who belongs to a dead man? Even if it means raising a child who doesn't belong to you?" She sighed. "Isn't this difficult for you also?"

"I wouldn't call it difficult. And paternity, in my opinion, wouldn't dictate how I could become a father." He smiled kindly at her. His admiration for Leraen, while he had never directly expressed it, had never been a secret to her. "But yes, it would be quite a change."

"It would be for both of us."

Teagan began to thumb at the rose. Leraen almost giggled out loud as she remembered how Alistair did exactly the same thing before he gave her the rose that he found at Lothering, but she raised a hand to her mouth and stifled it. Teagan then respectfully placed the rose on Alistair's gravestone, silently mumbling a thank you to his dead friend. It seemed rather unfair she and Teagan were talking about their impending marriage at her former husband's grave. Leraen sighed; perhaps Alistair would understand the situation she was in, and how few choices Teagan and she truly had.

"So you have decided to agree to the marriage, then?"

Leraen turned away for a moment. "I haven't decided yet. I'm rather pinned in a corner, you see."

"That does seem to be the situation we found ourselves in, isn't it?" He rose, grabbed Leraen's hand, and kissed it tenderly. "Listen, I know that this is very painful for you. I do not intend to rush you into making this difficult decision, but I do wish for you to know that I will always be here for you, no matter what you decide."

"Teagan, I..." her voice trailed off. She was surprised from his kind words. "I don't know what to say."

"Then you needn't say anything." He released her hand after smiling again. It wasn't but a moment after when Eamon's voice sounded back from the castle calling Teagan's name. He frowned and rolled his eyes before he playfully looked at the lady who sat before him. "If you'd excuse me, my lady, I believe that Eamon has even more matters that he requires my assistance with."

Leraen nodded and smiled. "Of course, Teagan."

The man voiced a goodbye and walked back to the door that led back into the hall. At least the nobles of the Landsmeet didn't try to pair her with someone like Arl Keiran or any of the other selfish, deceitful men.

But now that he was gone and she was left alone with only her thoughts to keep her company, she now truly realized the truth in Eamon's words. She did have a duty to Ferelden, and not only as a Cousland, but as a Grey Warden. Alistair always had done what he believed was best for his country and his people. Surely he would understand if she did the same. What was it that he had written in his ledger? "Don't save yourself for a dead man?" Did that mean that he didn't want her to be alone after his passing? And her child! Perhaps having Teagan come to be a father to her baby would be a very good thing.

Leraen whimpered. Marrying Teagan may have been the best option that was given to her, for both her, her coming child, and Ferelden. More tears fell down her cheeks as she glanced at the roses that she and Teagan had placed on Alistair's grave.

She fell to her knees and kissed her departed beloved's gravestone. "Please forgive me, darling," she whispered as succumbed to her sobs.

Even there, through the tears, the pain, and the hurt that threatened to swallow her whole, she decided that she would marry Teagan.


	7. Goodbye, Highever!

Leraen sighed as she packed the remainder of her belongings into her bag. Her visit with Fergus had sadly drawn to a close since the royal palace in Denerim had been deemed safe to live in again. She, Leliana, and Wynne were planning on leaving for the city that very afternoon.

Even though she knew that she was going to have to leave sooner or later, Leraen didn't want to depart for Denerim. She not only felt like she had more catching up to do with her brother, but leaving to reside at the place where she would be ruling carried a string of finality with it. She didn't feel ready to live among the scrutinizing nobles and courtiers who she knew would be watching her every move. She had grown accustomed to being free, of being her own person, and she wasn't looking forward to having to live under the watchful eyes that filled the court in Denerim. Some changes were heading her way- that she was sure of.

But she was also afraid to leave the security of being at home. Being here with Fergus and her friends gave her the comfort and security of being with people that supported and loved her. But she also knew that once she left through the door and entered the palace, there would be no going back to her former life. She would be fully committed to and reserved for the future she chose: marrying Teagan and becoming queen. There at Highever, Leraen did her best to forget about her fate and concerned herself with less pressing subjects, but there in Denerim, she would have to face what future she had created for herself instead of hiding from it like she did in her castle.

Leraen's nerves had already started to fray at the seams. Her former life with her comrades was coming to a close, and the departure of her friends earlier that morning was not helping her to accept that fact. Sten and Oghren had left once the sun had risen; Sten to his homeland, and Oghren to return to settle down with Felsi, respectively. It had been a very bittersweet morning. She was very happy to see them leave to finish what they had left behind, but she was very sad to see them go because of what it signified. The travels that had begun before the Blight were now officially over; her party had disbanded, and their adventures had come to a close. There would no longer be any cold nights spent before a fire, with stories told, songs sung, and laughs exchanged. She really missed those good times that they had together and the company that they had shared.

A large part of her longed to begin traveling again. There was something about being in that camp that she loved and missed, even though she was glad to be rid of the sometimes miserable weather, the hard ground as her only bed, and the constant threat of darkspawn ambushes in the middle of the night. What she truly longed to see was to watch Alistair play with Rover again, to listen to Leliana attempt to convince Morrigan to expand her wardrobe and stop wearing her scanty robes, to smell the scent that was created when Wynne would make her wonderful mint tea by the fire, to feel the chill of the cold nights that Alistair would spend in her tent in order to "stay warm," to share the kisses that Alistair and she would have once everyone had retired for the night... She blinked and pushed the memories of their travels out of her mind. This was no time to start blubbering about Alistair again.

Maybe one day she would have the opportunity to adventure again after the baby was born. After all, she was a Grey Warden and carried a duty to protect her country from all dangers, and Ferelden never seemed to have too few of those. She smiled when she realized that there was a possibility of being able to travel again, and she knew that Alistair would be happy to see her go in his memory.

But she was very grateful the previous night to find that both Wynne and Leliana had decided to accompany her to Denerim. Leraen had asked Wynne if she would become her court mage, and the elder lady had gladly accepted. Leliana decided that she would stay with Leraen to support her, at the very least until after the child was born, and the Warden happily allowed her to do so. After the sad goodbye that she had given Sten and Oghren that morning, she was very glad that she didn't have to say farewell to her companions all at once.

Once Leraen had rechecked that her armor was properly donned and all of her belongings were safely packed away, she toted her bags down the corridors to the main hall to be put into the carriage by the servants. Both the carriage and saddled horses were waiting outside once she had arrived.

It wasn't long until both Wynne and Leliana walked down the corridor with their own bags. Other servants arrived and swiftly ensured that their things were securely stuffed into the carriage. The horses were brushed, watered, and fed one last time so that they wouldn't have to stop so soon after they left to tend to them. The small party walked out and helped the servants in any way they could in the preparations for their departure.

"Wynne," Leraen grabbed the mage's attention once she was sure that there was enough help with the packing of the carriage. "I'm going to sneak away for a bit."

Wynne nodded, subtly smiling, and seemed to know where she was going even though she hadn't voiced it. "Take your time, dear. We are in no hurry to leave."

Leraen thanked her and walked around the castle to the garden where Alistair had been laid. She just wanted to say goodbye to Alistair one more time, since she probably wouldn't be able to come back to Highever for a while. She went around the side of the castle and through a gate, which led her to the memorial. As she had made into a habit, she picked off two flowers from the nearby rose bushes and first laid one of the red flowers on Duncan's grave. She, just as she had done nearly every day that she had been at Highever since the Templar's burial, sat down on the stone bench in front of Alistair's tombstone.

"Hey there," she nearly whispered as she placed the rose upon his grave.

The three weeks since Alistair's death had seemed to last so long; it seemed forever since she had actually seen his face. She could still see the event occur just as vividly and accurately as it had happened on the final day that she saw him. She rubbed the stray tears away from her eyes, hoping that they weren't reddening. She wasn't ready to leave him, and she shuddered as she considered the fact that she wouldn't be near where he laid.

The dread of leaving Highever that Leraen had felt earlier that morning filled her again. Leaving the Castle Cousland not only made her nervous because of the changes that would inevitably happen in her life, but made her feel like she was leaving her husband behind. She enjoyed talking to him and voicing her worries, even if Alistair couldn't respond to her one-sided conversations. She always felt like he was listening to her even if he wasn't physically sitting next to her, and she could almost swear that he was doing so spiritually.

"I'm going to miss you," she said as she cleared the colored leaves off of the labeled stone on the ground. She definitely would, indeed. "I'll love you, always, my darling." She reminisced of the times that he had told her that himself: the times spent by themselves when it seemed that little mattered except for Leraen and Alistair, when it seemed that they had all the time together then they could ever want. Maker, did she miss those times.

"Leraen!" She heard a man's voice call from the castle courtyard. She sighed. It seemed that her goodbye was being cut off sooner than she had hoped. She took one last long look at her husband's grave, rubbed the remaining evidence of her tears from her eyes, and walked back to the courtyard.

"There you are," Eamon said once the Warden drew closer. The Guerrins stood ahead of her, in front of the carriage with their horses' reins in their gloved hands with handsome, gentlemanly smiles pasted onto their faces. The sight of them made her uneasy and filled her with resentment. She was hoping to have some time away from the two of them to think and reflect on what had recently happened while she and her friends were on their journey, but it seemed that she just couldn't shake the Guerrins away. Were they wishing to go back with her to Denerim? She forced herself to smile at them in an effort to hide her true feelings about their unexpected appearance.

"Good day, my lady," Teagan said as he pulled off a regal bow in greeting. Eamon followed suit as his brother did so.

"Good day, my lords." Leraen curtsied in return. "I trust that you both slept well?"

"We have, thank you," His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he caught her gaze. Leraen faintly blushed when she noticed his expression and turned her attention to Eamon, hoping that the younger of the two men hadn't noticed the flush of color at her cheeks.

"We were wondering if we could travel with you, my lady," Eamon quickly asked. Leraen swallowed once she heard this; it was as she feared. "We are afraid that we have resided at your lovely estate for too long, and thought that we would leave before we wore out our welcome. It is time for us to return to our own home, but since we would be traveling on the same path, we thought it would be a good idea for us to ride together."

Leraen looked back at Teagan. He still had the same formal smile on his face, which seemed to grow brighter and larger when he had noticed that she was looking at him. Leraen wasn't stupid; she knew what was really going on. The Guerrins really wanted her and Teagan to know each other so that they could seal the deal and make sure that the marriage between the two of them would really happen by having the two of them fall in love before the ceremony actually took place. She had to admit that it wasn't too much of a bad thing. After all, she would prefer to marry someone that she actually knew something about as opposed to a complete stranger.

Leraen smiled again in an attempt to appear as if she was keeping her composure and nodded an answer to Eamon's question. "Of course, it would be my pleasure to have you both travel with us." She hoped that the men wouldn't be able to realize that Leraen was lying about her true feelings. Although she was rather frustrated that the two would be joining their party, she still realized that the new arrangement would be the best for everyone. Or at least that was what she kept telling herself.

Leliana looked at Leraen and smirked at her playfully. The Warden could tell that she could see right through her; the fellow bard knew her far too well. Leraen tried her best to ignore her and continued to smile.

"Fantastic!" Eamon exclaimed, with far too much enthusiasm for the early hour, in Leraen's opinion. "We are already all packed and ready to go."

"Let us make sure that we are fully prepared, then," Wynne said cheerfully as she checked her horse's saddlebag for all of her supplies for what must have been the twentieth time. The two men nodded as they waited for their traveling companions to finish readying themselves.

Leraen began to turn to her horse, quickly brushed her down again, and checked the tightness of the saddle girth and bridle before Teagan and caught her eye. He courteously bowed his head slightly as he approached her and her horse. "My lady," he said in greeting as the two stepped away from the group. He looked at her and lightly smiled before leading his horse over to where they stood. He gently rubbed the gelding on the muzzle once he had come. "You know you don't have to have us travel with you. I just think that Eamon is just very excited to have us acquainted."

Leraen looked over her shoulder at Eamon, who was nosily staring at the two of them. When he saw that she was looking back at him, he quickly turned his attention back to his horse. She sighed and shook her head; her new betrothal was going to gather more attention than she had hoped it would.

"As he should be," Leraen said, trying her best to sound optimistic and excited about their upcoming journey. "Don't worry about it. We are getting married, aren't we? We'll have to learn to live with each other sooner or later." She slightly giggled at her own comment.

The man chuckled merrily. "Indeed, we shall. I would prefer that our coexistence would become a peaceful one." He tightened his horse's girth and mounted once he was content with the placement of the beast's tackle.

"As would I," Leraen said sincerely without a hint of sarcasm. Teagan's composure and attitude had put the lady at ease. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

"I look forward to traveling with you, Leraen."

"And I with you, Teagan," she answered.

With a tip of his hat, Teagan spurred the horse into a trot and settled where the rest of their company was standing. The Warden was shocked at the feeling that he filled her with as she began to realize that she was actually beginning to enjoy his company.

Leraen then walked to her own horse, a gray dappled mare named Grace, and lightly stroked her neck. She was a kind and gentle middle-aged horse that had been given to Leraen as a thank you gift after the Archdemon was killed. Leraen had always had a soft spot for the gentle beasts, and connected to the horse very quickly.

"How are you doing today, lady?" she quietly asked as she moved her hand to scratch under the horse's forelock. The carriage had been filled to the brim with the company's belongings, so she had decided to take the trip on horseback. She preferred the view from the saddle to the one from the carriage, anyway, since everything, to her, seemed lovelier from the back of her horse.

Eamon, when he saw the Warden attempting to mount, came and grabbed the horse by the reins and helped Leraen into the saddle. She thanked him as he began to move back to his gelding.

"Are you sure that you sure be mounted today, my lady? I worry for your safety. If you should take a tumble off of your horse..."

"Oh, don't be concerned with me, Eamon. The carriage is stuffed to the brim with our belongings. Wynne has also assured me that we will be traveling slowly, so there will not be many opportunities for there to be any slips or missteps on the horse's account."

"If you say so, Leraen," he said, obviously not convinced that she had picked the safest choice. "In any case, I will keep an extra eye out for you."

"Thank you, Eamon," she said sincerely as the man mounted his steed.

"Are we ready to go?" Wynne finally asked once everyone had mounted their steeds. After a few nods and "yeses" that were voiced from the party, she led the party out the gate and onto the trail that led away from Highever.

With a last look at her past home, Leraen nudged her horse along and followed along with her company.


	8. Stargazing

Leraen stretched her arms as the company continued down the road. The day had proved glorious for travel, and the weather had actually cooperated, allowing the company to travel unhindered until nearly dusk. As such, it had been a very long day, and Leraen soon found that her limbs were beginning to grow numb from the long hours spent sitting atop her mount's back. The sun had already begun its decent behind the trees, its warm rays beginning to dim and consequently alerting all who were still active that the time for rest was swiftly approaching. Noticing the shift, both Eamon and Teagan began consciously searching for a suitable place to spend the night.

Suddenly feeling a set of eyes watching her, Leraen looked up just in time to notice as Teagan glanced back at her again. Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Leraen instead exchanged looks with Wynne; the elder mage in turn gave her that damnable knowing look, the omniscient twinkle present in her aged eyes. Leraen forced a smile onto her lips in response, the soon-to-be Queen soon realizing that Wynne knew far more than she let on.

Wynne had no doubt seen Leraen and Teagan chatting earlier during their trip. It had been pleasant enough, and, as it turned out, they had far more in common with each other than she had initially thought. His interests varied as much as any learned man's could; books, horses, stories, legends, myths, lore, and many other topics left them learning more and more from and about each other for hours, though Eamon had intervened when he felt the need. It was obvious by the not-so-subtle glances they cast back at Leraen that they indeed were conversing about her; sometimes she wondered just how influential of a politician Eamon truly was if he were so blatant about his planning and topics of conversation. Shaking her head, Leraen remembered that politics was what brought her into this would-be mess. Alistair's body hardly lay cold in the ground, and the nobles of Ferelden demand she take another husband, despite her mental state or personal wishes. The absurdity of politics would forever elude her, and she could only shake her head at herself. Just what sort of scandal was she about to involve herself?

Teagan helped her situation infinitely, however, by being just who he was: a gentleman, hardly capable of saying an unkind word to anyone unwarranted. He was kind, thoughtful, patient with her and the rather complicated situation in which she found herself drowning. If nothing else, Teagan would prove to be a good friend to her.

"This appears suitable," Eamon noted as he slowed his horse's pace, the rest of the party following suit and slowing their mounts as well. The clearing they eventually settled into camp for that night was surrounded by a vast canopy of trees, the Imperial Highway not far off in case a swift getaway was required. "I think this will be a good place to rest for the night, don't you?" Eamon then asked, his eyes lifting to find Teagan's.

"I do, brother," Teagan replied as he dismounted his horse. He made quick work of unsaddling and then tethering his horse to a nearby tree, his intent to help Leraen obvious as he strode over to her horse. Helping Leraen to dismount, Teagan made certain that he didn't place any more pressure or tension on her still-healing leg, or risk another injury were she to slip from his grasp.

Noticing such a feat, Leraen gave Teagan a small smile and murmured a thank you for his help.

Once the horses were seen to and ready for the coming night, the party could then better focus on what its human counterparts would need. The responsibilities were many, and as such each member of the party was required to do something. As it was, Leraen had been given the task of collecting firewood; not an especially difficult task to be sure, but a vital one nonetheless.

Her search for twigs and sticks led her to the edges of the campsite, Leraen hardly surprised when she noticed a certain someone trailing behind her. Her steps did not slow, however, and Teagan had to increase his pace in order to catch her.

"I hope the trip has been enjoyable for you, Leraen," Teagan stated in a questioning tone, Leraen's lips twitching though staving off the smile that threatened to break through.

"Thoroughly. It was a very beautiful day to travel," she answered, reaching down to pick up a small log at her feet.

"Agreed. The weather was very suitable for us today," Teagan murmured, beginning to gather his own collection of fallen branches and sticks to take back to camp. "I trust you are feeling well?" he then asked a bit hesitantly, both of them exchanging a look before Leraen answered.

"I am quite well, thank you for asking," she replied, knowing full well why he had asked about her health. She had seen Wynne talking to him earlier that day in a rather private manner, and she had no doubt that it was concerning her health, and what they could expect to see in the coming months. I suppose he had to learn about it sometime, she thought.

"I'm glad to hear it," Teagan answered sincerely, his eyes roving around the forest in search of more they could later burn on the fire.

"What was it that you and Eamon were speaking of earlier?" she queried, well aware of the topic of their conversation and of how inappropriate it was of her to ask, even if it were about her. A sudden, strange need to hear it from his him pulled at her, part of her wondering if he would be offended or actually tell her the truth. Teagan pulled his attention back to her, but surprised her with his response. He didn't appear angry, or irritated, even. He instead smiled as his eyes sparkled with a glisten of amusement.

"Why, of you, Leraen. After all this time of discovery and progress with each other, what else would we talk about?" he replied with a wink.

"Truly?" she asked with a smile as she feigned bewilderment at his response.

"Eamon seems to like you," he said as he continued to gather wood. "He says that we will be a good match."

"Well, that's good. I wouldn't want any disagreements with my in-laws," Leraen answered a bit mechanically, her thoughts mulling over Teagan's response before asking another question. "Do you think that we'll be a good match?"

It was then that Teagan's already-broad smile brightened even more than Leraen thought was possible. "Yes, I think that we will. It appears that we have a lot in common with each other."

Leraen kept herself from shaking her head. The man's obvious infatuation with her was a bit overwhelming, and it felt far too soon to her for him to be saying such things. But regardless of what she was thinking, he was still trying to woo her with his sweet sentiments, and she couldn't change his feelings.

"I think we will be too," she replied a bit halfheartedly.

When they both returned, they found that the rest of their party had already returned, and was presumably waiting for them in the center of the clearing. Leraen and Teagan piled their firewood onto the ground and Wynne hastily started the campfire. She then pulled out the sustenance that they had packed and began to cook their dinner.

Leraen, however, was not surprised to find that Leliana had taken the opportunity to share the many stories that she knew with her companions. Leraen found her mind wandering since this was probably her fiftieth time listening to each one of them, but Eamon and Teagan seemed to enjoy the stories and songs that the bard shared. Everyone listened intently as she told the legend of the Witches of the Wilds and of the common treachery and conspiracy present in the Orlesian court. Predictably, they also cooed over her voice as it lilted with the elven song, In Uthenera.

But even though Leraen had heard everything Leliana had to sing and tell very often, she loved the sense of camaraderie that came from this group of travelers. It seemed that what Leliana had told had "broken the ice" between them, and consequently everyone spoke more easily and comfortably after she was finished. Laughter freely erupted from the group sporadically now after amusing topics and stories.

It was almost like old times, but just with a couple different faces around the fire. It filled Leraen with a feeling of nostalgia that almost made her giddy.

Soon, Wynne finished preparing their meal. A dinner consisting of dried beef, heated vegetables, slices of cheese, and dried biscuits was soon served much to everyone's relief. The boisterous interactions between the adventurers quieted down as their mouths were stuffed.

After the meal was consumed, the travelers began to realize how weary they truly felt. One by one, each person bade the other good-night, wished everyone well, and returned to his or her own tent to sleep before the continuation of the journey the next morning.

Leraen stretched and yawned herself, the desire to relax and sleep nearly overwhelming. Only Teagan remained after his brother headed to his tent. Just as she began to rise, he began to speak.

"Do you enjoy stargazing, Leraen?"

The question was a bit surprising to her. He wanted her to stargaze with him? Well, she had received stranger requests than that before.

"I can't say that I've done it much. My father showed me the stars occasionally when I was young, but other than that, I have little experience," Leraen answered truthfully, her eyes drifting to the clear sky before Teagan began speaking again.

"That's something that we'll have to fix, then. Come, sit." Teagan beckoned her towards him with a smile, Leraen quickly closing the gap between them and sitting down next to him, quite eager to see what he was about to show her. "We have been blessed with a very clear sky. It should be easy to find some constellations tonight," Teagan commented lightly, his eyes lifting to the bare heavens.

Teagan then lifted his arm and pointed to the darkened night sky. "Do you see that cluster to the west?" he asked, his outstretched finger pointing in the same direction. Leraen nodded once she found the bright group of stars in question, Teagan looking to her when she didn't audibly respond. "Good. Now, follow my hand and take note of the stars I point at," Teagan instructed, arm beginning to move in a fluid arc.

Leraen remained silent as she watched Teagan, his calm enthusiasm hardly leaving his face. With his arm outstretched, he indicated certain stars. Her jaw dropped and she giggled as she recognized the shape that he had created among the stars.

"What do you see?" he questioned, noting the recognition on her face.

"Is it a fish?" she asked, excited by her new discovery. She hadn't often thought of looking for pictures in the night sky in a very long time.

"That it is. You've good eyes," he said with a grin. "Here, let me show you another."

Leraen watched intently as he pointed out a more complicated pattern. The imaginary lines between the white dots in the sky slowly came together to form a larger shape.

"It's a dragon!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "Show me another."

That was exactly what he did as he lifted his arm again. But this shape was among stars which were a little fainter than the others, and Leraen couldn't make out the shape once he was done.

"I couldn't see that one very well," she voiced honestly.

"You couldn't?" That caused Teagan to frown. He would simply have to remedy that then, wouldn't he?

Leraen shivered as Teagan pulled an arm around her. What was he doing?

"May I?" he asked simply.

Leraen then found it too difficult to move, much less speak to oppose his advances. A nervous flutter rose up in her chest while Teagan grabbed her wrist. He lifted her arm with his in one graceful, fluid lift and pressed her a little closer to him so that she would have a better view of what he saw. Their sides touched as he drew her nearer.

And yet, Leraen couldn't move herself to stop it. A part of her felt a bit violated, perhaps, and appalled at the fact that he was touching her. The feeling left her breathless. But another part of her was filled with a lighter, more comfortable feeling that actually wanted to be near him.

She hardly knew the man! Why was she letting him do this?

However, Teagan was gentle, and bore no evidence that he wanted to do anything other than sit with her and point out the stars. With her hand in his, he slowly, and more precisely, began to indicate each star that sat in the beautiful pattern. She recognized the form right away.

"It's a dog," Leraen stated, a little confused.

"A mabari, to be more accurate," Teagan corrected, the constellation now making more sense.

"Oh, of course." The Fereldans' obsession with the animals was bound to have gotten the dogs a constellation at some point.

Teagan then seemed to sense Leraen's discomfort, so he let go of her arms and moved further away from her. He remained silent as he did so, though, and only smiled as he took a new seat on the grass across from her.

"How are you holding up today?" he asked at length. His smile slightly faded and Leraen saw what she thought was a flash of concern in his eyes.

Teagan almost seemed to have a soft, welcoming aura about him as he waited for her answer. Leraen couldn't place her finger on it, but there was something about his demeanor and disposition that made her want to spill out all of her worries and sorrows onto him. He just seemed so welcoming and understanding in how he appeared to be so willing to listen to her.

"Leaving Highever was difficult," she started, the memory stirring a few painful emotions deep in her gut. While Teagan didn't need to know of all of the emotional battles that took place inside of her, she didn't think that hiding the answer to his question would do either of them much good. "It's my home. I love it there," Leraen stated flatly, a small whisper in the back of her mind also reminding her that Alistair remained there, eternally waiting for his lover to return to his side.

Teagan nodded. "It is a very welcoming place. We'll have to visit often."

"I would be very unhappy with you if we didn't," Leraen added with a playful smirk. "I daresay Fergus wouldn't be pleased if we never visited, either."

"I'm sure he wouldn't be. I wouldn't even dare to keep his sister away from him," Teagan added with a chuckle.

"No, you would not want to experience Fergus when he's angry," Leraen giggled at the thought.

"So you are feeling better today? You haven't seemed as...melancholy as you have been in the past few days," Teagan noted quietly, the Bann noticing the subtle shifts in Leraen's mood lately.

She remained silent for a moment; explaining her grief about her lost love to her future husband would no doubt be awkward for them both, but especially her. For him, for Teagan, she was supposed to be letting go of her old life and preparing herself to start anew, not hanging on to something that could no longer be. She sighed as she steeled her resolve and readied herself to speak.

But before she had the opportunity to speak, Teagan grasped her hand and squeezed it softly in an effort to comfort her. "You have to remember that you're not the only one who has ever lost a loved one, Leraen. You'll remember that Rowan, King Maric's queen, was my sister," Teagan mentioned, the pain from that old wound still showing in his sympathetic eyes. "I can't imagine what it feels like to lose a husband, but I'd like to think that I understand, at least in some small part, the grief that you're going through."

She winced at Teagan's admission; Queen Rowan's death had been tragic, and her family had no doubt taken it hard.

What a hypocrite I've been, she thought.

"You don't have to hide your grief from me. I'm here for you. I promise you, times will get better, and all of this will become easier."

What had she ever done to have earned such kindness from him?

"Thank you, Teagan," she stated, squeezing his hand in return. "Even though I already miss Highever, I do think that moving away from there has been a good thing. It was oftentimes painful to be forever reminded of my family's deaths."

He gave a comprehending nod. "I could relate to that."

Teagan then stretched, and didn't care to cover up his yawn as he did so. Leraen took the opportunity to change the subject, and Teagan mercifully decided not to press for her true feelings any longer.

"I suppose that it's time to retire for the night," Leraen said at last, both of them standing to full height.

"Yes. It is getting late, isn't it? And I heard that Wynne is planning on waking us early tomorrow."

"Fantastic," Leraen scoffed. "We'll have to see about that."

Teagan chuckled, rubbing his arms as if to chase away some chill. "Goodnight, Leraen. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Teagan."

He turned towards his tent and happily whistled a familiar tune. He slipped under the entrance to the tent and disappeared from sight.

Leraen remained where she stood for a few moments. Why did Teagan treat her so nicely? Out of all the courtiers that had been sent to Highever to ask for her hand in marriage, she had never met a noble who had been so gentlemanly, sweet, and aware of people other than himself. Teagan was a unique man, and she felt that she would never be able to thank him enough for his support.

She then smiled. Perhaps the marriage wasn't going to be as awful as she thought.


	9. Caterpillars and Butterflies

Teagan stretched his arms as he woke up from his slumber. He hadn't slept very well that night; with his noble upbringing and comfortable homes that he had lived in, he could never adjust to sleeping well on the hard ground. However, that was not what had woken him up at such an early hour. Loud noises came from the campsite outside his tent and he could hear his companions scurrying about. Teagan scowled as he quickly dressed himself and left his tent to see what the matter was.

"What's going on?" he asked once he was outside his tent. He scowled; his grogginess did not help him understand the panicked looks on Eamon's and Wynne's faces. Leliana emerged from her tent a moment later while she tried to rub the sleepiness out of her eyes, but seemed to be just as puzzled as he was over the activities of their other companions.

"Leraen is gone," Eamon said at length while he filled a knapsack with supplies. "Wynne and I are going to split off to go and search for her, and I suggest that you and Leliana do the same."

"She's gone?" Teagan asked as he arched his brow. He walked over to where her tent was set up, lifted the flap, and peered inside. Sure enough, her bedroll was neatly made and her clothes were in the right place, but she was nowhere to be seen. "So, no one has seen her this morning?"

"No," Wynne answered in a much calmer tone while she began to fill her own bag. "I have been awake for an hour and have only now noticed her absence."

"Surely she wouldn't just run away," Leliana added. She grabbed her sheathed knife and strapped it to her ankle. "But it would be strange if something would have happened to her out here, no? There's no sign of struggle around here, and her things are still nicely put away in her tent as if she was expecting to come back for them. Perhaps she just left to claim some time to be by herself."

"Which is why we need to find her before something does happen. She is to become queen and is bearing her heir. We can't allow her to just simply run off," Eamon said hurriedly.

Teagan inwardly laughed when he saw Wynne roll her eyes while his brother's back was turned. She had displayed what everyone else was thinking: that there was no need to be so concerned over the short absence of the Warden who was more than capable of taking care of herself.

"We're ready, so we'll go and look for her in the forest." Eamon pointed to the trees that lay behind the camp. "Why don't you two search the meadow in front of us?"

Teagan saw the meadow that lay on the other side of the road that crossed in front of their campsite and nodded. "Stay safe," he wished while Eamon and Wynne left their company.

Leliana shook her head once the other two were far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hear them. "This is silly; there is no need to panic. Leraen would sometimes go to find some time for herself when we traveled together during the Blight and would always come back completely unharmed."

"While I agree with you, Leliana, I do believe that it wouldn't hurt to search for her. I must admit that I worry about her going by herself in these parts," he said as he nervously ran a hand through his hair, thinking of the darkspawn that might catch her unaware when she was alone.

Leliana giggled once she noticed his nervous quirk. "Oh, you needn't worry, Teagan. She is more than able of defending herself. She's a Warden and thus can sense the darkspawn that might roam around here. And besides, she did help to kill an Archdemon, you know."

"Yes, she is a very strong woman and I am sure that she has more than proven that she can take good care of herself before, but there's more at stake than her own life now. Eamon is right in part; she is to become queen, and we might lose her child if something happens to her. I don't think that it would be a terrible idea for us all to become more cautious and to do our best to ensure her safety."

Leliana uttered a not-so-subtle sigh of exasperation. "I suppose you're right."

The two of them left the campsite and walked towards the meadow, and for the most part, they were silent as they traveled. They would call out for Leraen occasionally, but didn't do so often out of fear that they would be heard and would attract darkspawn to them or to her. The last thing any of them needed was a darkspawn ambush.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Leliana meekly started in an attempt to end the awkward silence that had lingered for too long between the two of them. "Where did you grow up?"

"I lived in Denerim before my sister died," he answered. "Eamon and I spent most of our childhoods there, but spent some years in the Free Marches as well."

"I see," she said, scavenging for something that they could carry a conversation on. "So, you have lived in Fereldan for most of your life, then?"

"Yes I have."

"Oh," Leliana said. She observed that Teagan didn't really seem to be interested in talking right then. He was rather involved in looking for Leraen, and he seemed to be so intent in his search that he hardly had the capacity to pay attention to much else. She sighed again before a different idea came to her.

"So, what do you think about Leraen?" she asked before she really thought about what she was asking. The man in front of her was going to become the king of Fereldan, and she had just partially questioned him about the reasons he had for planning to marry her friend. She immediately wished that she could take the words back - she was stepping over a line that was off limits to people in low stations like she was. "Oh, I'm sorry. That was pretentious of me, wasn't it?"

Teagan chuckled. "No, it's all right, I understand. You're concerned about Leraen." He turned back to Leliana and smiled. "I think that she is a wonderful lady; I have admired her for a very long time."

"Truly?" Leliana asked, raising a brow as she heard his answer. "How long have you known her?"

"I have known her since her father started bringing her to the Landsmeets with him. We were all quite a bit younger then, and you would laugh if you could see what she was like when she was a girl. She was a tomboy, and when she and the children of the nobles who were too young to sit still through the meetings would get together and play, it was the tough, older boys that were listening to her orders and letting her decide what they were going to play and how they were going to play it." He shook his head and smiled as he remembered.

"But after she turned nineteen, she was presented as a member of Fereldan nobility, and it was obvious that something had changed in her. She had become a lady. All of the young, unmarried boys her age would flock to her just to plant a kiss on her hand or to hear her say his name. She was more of a subtle beauty, and didn't try to promote herself like the other maidens did, which made her a mystery to the other lads. She was clever, actually interested in politics and had good solutions for the problems that arose in them, and could even hold her own in a sparring match against the most skilled and spryest swordsman with a dagger, of all things! She was an abnormality for a lady her age. However, it was well known that despite her parents' pleas, she never wished to marry, and she would never allow any of those boys near her." Teagan chuckled again. "But what was ironic about that was that she became even more of a prize to win, and her objections to the boys' proposals simply became obstacles to overcome that encouraged them to pursue her even more. I spoke to her father once before he died, and he told me that relentless lads would come from all over Fereldan just to try to win her hand."

The images that the statement provoked caused Leliana to laugh as well. "I would have liked to have seen her grow up," she voiced. "Her brother, Fergus, has told me some stories about when she was younger that were quite humorous."

"I'm sure he has plenty of them," Teagan said in response.

"If you admired her so much, why didn't you ever ask for her hand?"

"I waited a while to see if she was ever won over by any of the younger suitors. I'm a bit older than she is, you see, and I didn't want her to have to be matched against her will with a man who wasn't her age. I began to talk to her father, Bryce Cousland, about the matter at the last gathering I had seen him at and was about to approach Leraen about it, but I never had the chance. The Castle Cousland was besieged before I was ever able to speak to her, and I was under the impression that she had been killed in the attack as well until I had met her in Redcliffe."

Leliana smiled. That would explain the surprised and almost overjoyed reaction he had displayed when their party had first met him in the chantry at Redcliffe during the Blight.

"Do you think you could grow to love her?" Leliana asked after a few more moments of stagnant silence, once again knowingly sticking her toe over what may have been a boundary between what was appropriate and inappropriate to ask the man who stood next to her.

"Of course I do," Teagan answered, seemingly unfazed by the question. He smiled again in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness between him and the bard. "I am promised to her, and I have pledged to protect her and keep her safe. I will love her, if she won't allow me to through romance, then through my efforts to take care of her."

Leliana nodded, satisfied and reassured by his answer.

Then it was Teagan's turn to ask a question. "I wonder, Leliana: did Alistair visit you on the night before the battle at Denerim?"

Leliana turned to face him; she was quite surprised by his question. "Yes, he gave me a written goodbye that he wished for me to give to Leraen in the case of his death. Why do you ask?"

Teagan turned his face downward before he spoke. "He came to my room after everyone else had gone to bed that night before the battle at Denerim," he started.

"What did he want?"

Teagan hesitated; the memory still seemed painful to him. He sighed and began to tell his story.

* * *

Teagan sat at his writing desk, pouring himself over the battle plans and maps that cluttered its surface. From the lack of noise in the hallway, it seemed that all of the Warden's companions had already gone to bed, and Teagan knew that he should have been asleep by that late hour as well. But he was so nervous about the next day that he doubted if he would be getting any sleep at all. Everything had been prepared: the weapons were polished and sharpened, the soldiers had been assigned to their proper places, the strategies had been read through many times and all the weak points had been strengthened. He sighed; there was no reason that he should stay up so late now. Why did sleep seem so out of reach?

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Who could that be? He thought as he rose and opened his door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Alistair standing there with his usual awkward grin on his face.

"You couldn't sleep either?" the man before him asked.

Teagan shook his head. "No."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably before he spoke again. "Well, I have to admit that actually asking this makes me feel stranger than I thought it would, but can I come in? I have something that I need to talk to you about."

"Of course, Alistair. Come in." The other man entered and closed the door behind him. "Would you like to sit?" Teagan indicated a chair that he pulled out in front of the fireplace. Alistair plopped down in the chair, obviously fatigued from the draining day. Teagan dragged over the chair that he used at his desk so that he could sit across from Alistair.

"What is it that you need to speak about?" Teagan asked.

Alistair covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes. He seemed to be so exhausted in his sluggish movements and haggard appearance, but yet a bit upset over something. When Teagan looked closely, he thought he could almost see his friend trembling.

"I'm afraid, Teagan. I don't think that I have ever been as scared as I am now." Alistair said through his hands. It wasn't until he removed them from his face that Teagan saw that his eyes were red and his cheeks looked damp from tears. Had he been weeping?

"We all are, Alistair. I know I am." He ran a hand through his hair in another futile attempt to dissipate his own nervousness. "But you're a very capable fighter. I'm sure that you will be fine."

"It's not me that I'm worried about," Alistair replied.

Teagan looked back towards the other man once he realized who he was referring to. "You're fearful for Leraen's safety?"

Alistair nodded. "I have the most terrible feeling that one of us is going to have to die tomorrow, and I just can't let it be her."

Teagan remained silent for a moment, sinking in the sympathy that he had for his friend.

"You don't know what tomorrow holds. For all you know, both of you could come out of the battle completely unscathed," said he, even though he was well aware of the overwhelming odds that could prove him to be very wrong.

It was then Alistair's turn to be silent. He stared at the fire that was dying in the fireplace, neither denying nor even acknowledging Teagan's statement.

"Could you promise me something, Teagan?" He asked at length.

"It depends. What do you need?"

"If... If something happens to me tomorrow, will you make sure that Leraen is taken care of? Will you see to it that she will be protected and supported? I just get so worried for her when I think about the idea that I may have to leave her alone here. I so wish that I wouldn't have to hurt her in such a way! She doesn't deserve that, and I so wish that there was some other way so that we could stay together."

Teagan was rendered speechless; he had no idea what to say. Alistair truly seemed to believe that he would die the next day, despite what encouragement Teagan could try to give him to look past that terrible idea.

"What would you have me do for her?"

Alistair chuckled. "Teagan, your attraction towards her isn't a secret. I just don't want her to be lonely through all of this. Whether that means you have to sweep her off her feet or watch over her from a distance, I want you to do what you think is best for her."

Teagan stayed quiet for an instant. "Are you asking me to take your place in the case of your absence?" he asked.

"I can't simply abandon her here with no one to look after her. So if taking my place is what is necessary to see that she is safe and loved, then that is what I need you to do for me."

"If it comes to it tomorrow, then, you will sacrifice yourself for her?"

"Of course, without thinking about it twice."

Teagan smiled. "I admire your courage, Alistair. You must really love her, don't you?"

Alistair smirked. "More than anything." He wiped his eyes again. "Do we have a deal?"

Teagan thought of the dark time that this couple was about to face. Alistair just seemed to be so sure that there was some terrible fate that waited for them the next day. This really saddened Teagan; it was so obvious to him that the couple heavily relied on each other. They seemed to spend so much time together and had obviously become extremely close to each other. They were each other's support system, and Teagan was very glad to see that they had each other through this bleak time. He then thought about the Lady Cousland, and inwardly cringed as he considered how terribly broken she might become if something had happened to her beloved.

"Of course we do, Alistair," Teagan replied. He stood up, strode over to where he sat, and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I will personally make sure that she will be taken care of."

A solemn smile finally came to Alistair's face; their deal seemed to have calmed him a little.

"Thank you, Teagan."

It was there that the men just simply stayed there in the silence and watched the fire die down. They both had so much on their minds that neither was really capable of doing much else. After what seemed to have been an age passed and the fire had finally smoldered down, Teagan spoke at last.

"We should probably try to go to sleep," he said with a heavy heart. He was fearful for Alistair's wellbeing, but knew that he wouldn't be able to comfort him in the ways that he needed to be.

"Lady Cousland is probably in need of your presence," Teagan reminded his friend. "I'm sure that she would really benefit by having you by her side right now."

Alistair nodded while he slowly rose from his chair and left for the door. He opened it and started to exit.

"Thank you for everything, Teagan. You're the best almost-uncle I've ever had," he said, accompanied with something that resembled that silly grin that Teagan had seen him wear since his childhood.

Teagan smiled in return. "And you're the best almost-nephew I've ever had," he replied. "Try to get some sleep, all right?"

"I'll try," he answered. "I'll see you in the morning." Alistair left and closed the door behind him.

Teagan did his best to resign himself to sleep, but it never came. The sun rose and his thoughts never left the topic of the ill-fated couple who rested a couple doors down from his bedroom.

* * *

"So, Alistair had asked you to take care of Leraen?"

Teagan nodded.

Leliana stayed quiet for a few moments while they walked along as she tried to figure out what this all meant. "Is that really why you are marrying her?" She finally asked.

"It's not the only reason, no. I don't even think I would call it a major factor that I considered before I made this decision," he answered. "You see, when Eamon had announced that he was to find a suitor to become Leraen's husband, I was filled with sadness over her fate. She was obviously in so much pain over Alistair's death, and no one seemed to care about the poor timing that had begun to surround her circumstances. I was filled with nothing but an intense wish to take care of her and to somehow protect her from further harm during this most dreadful time, and the promise that Alistair had me make to him only seemed to affirm that this is what I am supposed to do."

Leliana smiled. "That is very reassuring, Teagan. I am very glad to hear that."

It was then that the two of them saw a large rock that popped out over the long grasses that stretched over the meadow. On top of it sat Leraen in her leather armor, staring up at the pink clouds that began to brighten in the sky as the sun ascended. Teagan smiled at the sight of her. Her long, brown tresses, which weren't bound by their usual braid, danced in the air while the morning breeze played with them and glinted in the increasing sunlight. She was alerted by the sound of movement, but smiled at her approaching friends once she realized it was them.

"You found me," she said as they reached the rock.

"Yes, we did," Teagan replied. "We were worried when we woke up and found that you weren't at camp."

"Didn't you see my note?" she asked. "I could have sworn that I had left one near my tent to let you know that I was leaving to snag a few quiet minutes."

"We didn't see one."

"Hmm," Leraen hummed as she rummaged through a rucksack that lay near her. "Oh, that would explain it." She smiled as she lifted a piece of paper out of the bag with an amused smirk on her face. "It seems that a note like this can only be found by others when it is remembered to be left behind."

Teagan chuckled while he walked over to the rock and offered his hand to Leraen, helping her descend safely to the ground. "Are you ready to go back to camp?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'm sorry that my absence concerned you. I just felt that I needed to be alone with my thoughts for a while."

"I understand completely."

Leliana, who had soon begun to walk back to their campsite, smiled and discretely winked at Teagan when Leraen's back was turned. She picked up her pace, leaving the two behind her to walk by themselves.

"How are you faring this morning?" Teagan asked.

"Fine."

"Did you sleep well?"

Leraen didn't answer right away. She walked over to a nearby tall flower and plucked it. "I couldn't sleep at all," she answered, twirling the purple bloom in her hand.

Teagan's brow furrowed with worry. "Is there anything that you wish to speak about? Do you wish for us to delay our departure so that you could try to rest?"

"No, I'm fit enough for travel." she said, ignoring the first question.

Teagan decided to continue to prod. "You said you couldn't sleep. What kept you from resting?" He watched intently as Leraen spun the purple flower in her hand, obviously mesmerized by the pretty color the movement created.

"Some of these days seem worse than others, and last night and this morning has been one of them. I just can't keep him away," she nearly whispered. "He haunts me in the quiet moments when I am left alone - the memories with him come back to plague me. And once I see him again, I feel like I am thrown back to where I was when he died; the shock, grief, and pain feels just as potent as it was on that day when he left me. I'm starting to begin to think that I am going mad," she said in reference to the hallucinations she had been seeing. She lifted her other hand to her eyes, wiping away the inevitable tears that flooded them.

"Leraen, I know what mad is, and you are nowhere near it." He almost chuckled when he recalled the time when he was ensorcelled by the demon-possessed Connor. "Alistair's absence is something that we all have to grow accustomed to. We all still expect him to still be with us, and it is hard to accept that he has gone to another place."

Leraen nodded, and stayed silent for a long moment. "I'm so sorry; this is incredibly hard to talk about."

"No, this is what you need," Teagan answered. "You shouldn't have to bottle up how you feel; this isn't a burden that you can bear alone." He moved closer to her and grabbed her hand.

"I just don't feel like I am able to meet the expectations that people require of me now. I cannot give them what they need of me. Even though I know that Alistair would not wish it of me, I feel like his memory turns me into a cold, hollow being that is capable of nothing but sorrow over his loss. That is not what my country needs or what my companions deserve from me. It is not what you deserve, Teagan. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I feel that I am not capable of returning that kindness like I should."

Teagan smiled gently at her in an attempt to dispel her sadness. How could he explain to her that he had always admired her? How could he tell her of how he always had felt the need to protect her since that time he had seen her presented before the court at the Landsmeet all those years ago? How could he convey to her the concern that he had felt for her when he had met her that first time they had met at Redcliffe and the sincerity that he had in the words they had shared, the fear that he held for her safety when she went to find an army to fight the Archdemon with, the happiness when he had heard that she survived the battle at Fort Drakon, or the pain that he felt when he first saw the sorrow she held over the death of her husband? How could he explain his willingness to be patient with her despite how difficult it would be, to wait for her to open her heart to him, or to be content with her even if that never happened?

It was then that a lovely black butterfly with iridescent blue markings flew by with such grace that it seemed to be demanding their attention. "Do you see that butterfly over there?" He asked at length. "It once was a simple caterpillar, and would be ignored by its more attractive peers.

But one day, it retreated into a chrysalis, without any reason other than the necessity that its instincts demanded. It was a time of unknowns. The caterpillar didn't know what would happen to it or why it needed to sleep, but gave itself the time to rest anyway. It was quite a dangerous period, and many predators would come looking for it. They never found it, though, and when it awoke it found itself as a beautiful butterfly that drew envy from everyone who had once mocked its plainness."

The butterfly landed on a flower of a pink hue nearby and sucked the sweet nectar from the bloom before it fluttered away again. Teagan walked over to the flower and plucked it.

"While I would never dare to compare you a caterpillar or call you plain, I do believe that it is quite unfair for us all to expect you to be ready to blindly walk into your new role. We need to allow you some time to soak this all in and to let you heal from the grief you are suffering." Teagan took the bloom and placed it behind her ear. She kept her gaze on him as he did so, and didn't move to block his advances. "You need to give yourself time to grow your wings, too. There's no need for you to push yourself so hard to recover from this; you will only be causing more harm to yourself."

Leraen nodded. "You're right," she said simply. She motioned for Teagan to begin to walk back to camp with her. "I'm sorry, I just... I hate feeling so empty and alone."

"Oh, you're not alone, Leraen," Teagan said, stopping to sympathetically look at her. "You have your friends here who are all worried about you, and while they may seem to be in a hurry for you to move on, it is only because they hate seeing you suffer so much. And I, my lady," he reached for her hands and kissed it, "will always be here for you. And if there is anything I can do to keep you from feeling so empty, then you only need to ask me."

More tears leaked from Leraen's eyes. Teagan felt a blow to his heart at the sight of them; he hated to see her in so much pain. "Will you stay with me during our travels? It's just that when I'm alone..." she stopped and wiped the tears from her eyes. "He doesn't bother me so much when you're here."

"Of course, my lady. I won't leave your side if that is what you wish."

What happened next was what surprised him the most. Leraen approached him and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. After a second his initial shock passed and he returned the gesture and began to gently stroke her hair. She lingered there for a moment, sobbing into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, I can't seem to control myself," she said after a long pause while she pulled away from him. A touch of pink arose at her cheeks, betraying the embarrassment she felt over her unpredictable embrace.

"You apologize too much, Leraen," Teagan said lightly. "It's all right."

"Thank you, Teagan," she said. "I don't know how to repay you for your understanding."

"There's no need," he answered. "Should we return now?" he asked and offered his hand.

"Yes, the others are probably wondering what is taking us so long to return." She offered a small smile when she allowed him to take her hand inside his own.

They both walked back in silence, allowing each other to keep themselves to their own thoughts. Teagan's thoughts, of course, were on the poor lady who walked next to him. He wanted nothing else but to wipe away her pain, to find some source of joy and happiness for her. He knew, though, that no matter how much he could wish to erase the grief that she carried, the road to recovery was one that she would have to take herself. He then resolved to see her through it, to walk with her as much as he could, and to make sure that she would complete her journey, even if it meant carrying her down to the end.

After a few minutes, the end to the meadow finally came into sight when they saw the road that marked where their campsite laid. Leraen looked up at Teagan, squeezed his hand, and let go, smiling all the while. "Thank you, Teagan," she voiced again. "Will you ride next to me today?"

"If that is what you wish," he bent down and kissed her hand. "I will stay by you for as long you require, and longer, if you will allow me. I am sincerely beginning to enjoy your company."

"I could say the same," she answered. "Well, I guess I should brace myself for my chastisement," she said, pointing to Wynne and Eamon who stood at the edge of the campsite waiting for them. "Will you wait for me by the horses?"

Teagan nodded. "I'll meet you there."

He smiled as she walked off towards their other companions, who still didn't seem very happy over her disappearance earlier that morning. He set off towards the horses and proceeded to prepare for the rest of their journey.

"Stay strong, Leraen," he whispered. "I'm here for you, love."


	10. Bravery

"Leraen, wake up."

The Warden's eyes flew open when she felt a hand nudge her shoulder. They were still traveling that day, and Leraen had become so exhausted that she could hardly keep her eyes open. The last few nights of little sleep had finally caught up with her, and she was beginning to hate that she had refused the opportunity to rest more that morning. Teagan rode next to her, and while he did his best to keep her awake, she was just too weary to engage herself in anything.

"I'm going to go and tell Eamon that we need to stop for the night," said Teagan. Lines of worry creased his forehead and concern flashed in his eyes. He urged his horse to quicken his gait and caught up with his elder brother who was leading the company.

Leraen was flooded with relief when Eamon finally decided that it was time for the party to stop. He had earlier determined to have reached the fork where the roads to Denerim and Redcliffe would separate and currently seemed to be rather annoyed that they wouldn't be reaching his goal that day. Given, it was early to be stopping; the sun had hardly started its descent and there was still plenty of light to travel by. Leraen no longer cared, though. It would be better for them to stop to rest than to have their queen fall asleep and take a tumble off of her horse.

The poor lady was so tired. The past few days had been so mentally exhausting from all of the raging emotions that would not let her go, and the lack of sleep she had received was not helping. She was so fatigued that she could barely keep her balance in the saddle, and had dozed off so hard a couple of times that she had nearly fallen off of her horse. Teagan, who had ridden beside her during the whole trip, did his best to keep her awake by trying to keep conversation and by telling stories, but Leraen was so tired that she could hardly pay attention to them any longer.

Thankfully, the group stopped once they found a clearing in the trees.

"Leraen, let me help you," Teagan voiced while he quickly dismounted and tethered his horse to a nearby tree trunk. He placed his hands around Leraen's waist and helped her down, ensuring that her landing would be gentle enough to not cause any further injury to her healing legs.

"Thank you," Leraen said.

"I think that some rest is in order, don't you? Let me fetch the canvas and posts and I'll set your tent up for you."

Leraen nodded. If he would have offered on any other day she would have protested since she would have been determined to set it up for herself, but on that night she was so tired that she could hardly focus on anything other than being able to lay herself down to sleep. She sat down on a nearby fallen log and began to play with the grass to try to keep herself conscious. Her companions busied themselves with their own chores: starting the fire, preparing dinner, setting up the other tents, but they never approached her. Perhaps they wanted Teagan to have more time with her? Leraen didn't think on it too hard; her tired mind could hardly make any sense out of it.

Teagan returned a couple of minutes later once he had finished, and taking her hands in his, helped her to stand to her feet.

"I have to admit that you worry me, Leraen." He said while he walked her towards her tent. "With all these changes that are coming you can't continue to get this little sleep."

"I know," she answered. She felt slightly annoyed by his concern but also flattered that he seemed to care for her so much already, and her weary mind became extremely puzzled by the strange mixture of the two feelings. "I'm sorry to worry you so."

"There you go, apologizing again," he slightly chuckled. "You have more to be concerned with than me, my lady." He lifted the flap to the tent and let go of Leraen's hand while she walked inside. "If you need anything, don't be afraid to find me, all right?"

Leraen turned to face Teagan and was surprised by the look on his face. He smiled, but his eyes spoke of fear, probably for her and her child's health and well-being. Leraen smiled back in an attempt to alleviate his worry, but she was quite sure that it came off as more of a weary grimace.

"I will," she answered at last. She allowed the flap of her tent to close before she began to unfasten her leather armor. She let the pieces fall to the ground in a heap before she crawled into her bedroll and pulled the blanket up to her chin. She could hear voices that came from outside her tent, and it was pretty clear that they were talking about her, but she was too tired to care.

She instead closed her eyes and let sleep claim her and take her away.

"Leraen!"

The Warden sat up and rubbed her eyes. Who could be calling her at this late an hour? She rose and lifted the flap of her tent to see who had called her. She gasped as she saw who was there, blinked twice, and nearly began to cry when he didn't disappear.

"Father!" She shouted as she ran into his arms. "How are you - where did you - " she stuttered, not sure how to voice the many questions she had over her father's supposed death.

"It's not important, pup." He said while he stroked her hair. "I'm just so glad we found you. We missed you so much!"

"We?" Leraen asked, completely perplexed by this turn of events. "Who did you bring with you?"

And that's when she saw them. Filing in behind her father were her mother, Oriana and Oren, and her dog, Rover. She laughed in relief and in delight as she went to meet them, and embraced each one of them tightly in turn.

"Auntie Ranie!" Oren shouted when he grabbed onto Leraen's legs. She laughed while she bent down, grabbed him up into her arms, and spun around. He giggled loudly and threw his arms around her neck. How she had missed her little nephew!

"We're so proud of you," her mother said as she grabbed her shoulder.

Her dog ran towards her, barking happily at the sight of his master. Leraen set Oren down before she bent down to hug Rover's neck, and laughed as she received many wet kisses.

"You have another visitor," Oriana said with a knowing smile while she pointed towards the trees. Leraen heard them rustle, and couldn't believe who she saw when her visitor emerged.

Tears of joy came to Leraen's eyes when she realized who it was. She stood to her feet and ran towards him, jumped into his arms, threw her own arms around his neck, and covered his face with kisses.

"It's you, it's really you!" She exclaimed once she felt able to. "How did you come back?"

"Oh, there's no reason to worry about that, is there, darling?" Alistair asked. His voice seemed to have an ethereal ring to it; a bouncy and joyful noise that overjoyed Leraen. "I'm just happy to finally be united with you again. I missed you so much! I'm so sorry that I had to leave you for this dreadfully long amount of time."

"No, it's all right. I'm just so glad to have you back with me."

Alistair set her down and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and entangling his fingers in her hair. When they were done, he smiled at her and just laughed out of his newly found happiness, and Leraen joined him.

"I'm so excited to be back with you. Are you ready to start a family with me?"

Leraen nodded.

He kissed her once again on her forehead. "I can't believe this is happening. Who knew that this was even possible?" he said, referring to the child his wife was bearing. "You are going to make such a good mother."

"And you are going to be a fantastic father." Leraen moved her hand to caress Alistair's cheek. This was all too surreal to her.

"You two are going to make wonderful rulers, too." Bryce Cousland strode towards them with a large grin that lit up his face. "I am so happy for you both. You have grown up so much, pup." He placed a hand on Leraen's shoulder, his pride for his daughter evident on his face.

Suddenly, Leraen heard something else rustle in the trees. It was too quick for an animal and sounded too much like human footsteps. "What was that?" she asked. She grudgingly broke free from Alistair's grasp and went to inspect the forest edge for the intruder.

"Oh, don't worry about him," her father said. "He's just a straggler who has been following us. He won't do any harm."

"Bryce is right," Alistair added. "He's been following us for a while. We're not quite sure why. He is a friendly fellow, though."

Leraen became confused; something was not right. She took a step past the edge of the forest and saw a shadow next to one of the trees. She stepped closer towards the figure, all the while wary of what he wanted.

"Who's there?" she ventured, stepping carefully towards the man.

"Are you saying that you don't recognize me?" A voice rich with a thick Antivan accent asked. He stepped forward into a patch of light where the moonlight had slipped in through the tree branches so that Leraen could more clearly see him.

Leraen gasped. "It – It can't be you. I watched you die!" She stepped back, alarmed by the dead man who was standing before her.

Zevran tsk'ed. "'Twas a terrible travesty, yes? A sad misunderstanding was all it was. Surely we can amend what had happened."

There - she saw the moonlight glint off of an item that he held in his hand. Was it a blade? She turned on her heels and ran out of the forest.

"Alistair! Father! We must get away!" she shouted as she sprinted towards them. "It's Zevran - he's come back for me, and he might hurt all of you, too."

Leraen stopped short. What was wrong with Alistair? He stood still, unaware of the worries that Leraen was shouting about. He face had gone completely pale, and though he neither moved nor spoke, she could see pain through his eyes. He coughed twice and spouted blood out onto his chin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His knees collapsed and he fell to the ground.

"Alistair!" she screamed. Her feet took her quickly to his side and she knelt down next to him. She was too late; he was no longer breathing and his heart had stopped.

"Leraen," her father's weak voice uttered. She looked towards him just in time to see him collapse. She ran to him next and saw his side terribly bloodied. Tears ran down her face as she closed his eyes; it was too late for him, too.

The Warden ran towards her other family members, praying that she could get to them before they left, but her efforts came to no avail: Oriana was disemboweled, Oren had his wrists cut and had bled out, her mother had a wound that was too large to mend on her stomach, and Rover, who was in his death throes from darkspawn poisoning, was convulsing violently. She cried out once she realized that there was nothing that she could do; they were all dead.

She rose to her feet and turned once she heard him approach her. Fear rose in her chest as she held her quivering hands outward, showing that she did not carry any weapons.

"I'm so sorry, Zevran," she said in between her quickening shallow breaths. She tried to calm her rapidly beating heart but it wouldn't slow down; she knew why he had come back to haunt her and was certain that he wouldn't leave until he had finished what he had set out to do. "I didn't want to kill you. I considered you my friend, but you betrayed me and left me no choice but to defend myself."

Zevran stepped out of the trees and into the moonlight. Leraen could see his chest then: it was wet and red with blood. The wound was exactly where she had stabbed him on that terrible day before the Landsmeet. "It's too late for apologies," he said. "What has been done has been done, and I cannot allow my killer to walk freely."

"Zevran, please. You don't have to do this," she pleaded. She started to frantically look around her for some kind of weapon but saw none, and her recovering body was in no condition to take him on weaponless.

Since she had no other option, she ran away as quickly as her still injured legs would take her. She didn't look back as she ran into the forest, dodging tree trunks, roots, and bushes as she did so. But then, she felt a stray root grab her foot. She screamed as she went down and crashed onto the forest floor. Her ankle ached terribly.

Spurred on by the adrenaline that flooded her veins, she tried to stand up, ignoring the pain that shot through her legs. She yelped as something caught her, pushed her back down, and pinned her against the ground.

Leraen flailed in panic, looking for some escape out of the new prison that she found herself in. She scratched until her nails met flesh and pulled down with all her might, biting deep into his skin. Her assailant grunted in pain, but didn't allow her to find any way out of his grasp. He brutally bent her arms behind her back until Leraen heard terrible pops when her elbows came out of their sockets. She shrieked in agony out of the burning pain that spread across her arms.

"Please, don't do this, Zevran," she begged again. "I am so, so sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen!"

"You should have thought of that a long time ago," the elf said. He pulled out his dagger and eyed the blade, making sure that it was clean and sharp. "I am sorry that this had to end this way, Leraen. You must know that I admire you, I truly do, but you must also know that I can't allow you to go free.

"Sleep well, my friend."

Leraen shrieked as he raised his blade and plunged it into her chest.

Leraen awoke with a start. She sat up quickly, gripping at her chest, dizzying herself as she did so. Once her swimming vision returned to normal, she hurriedly looked around her tent for a dagger.

What had happened? She thought while she searched for it. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her sheathed blade sticking out of her rucksack, and she pulled it out and held onto it tightly in her right hand. Had it all been a dream? It must have been; she has seen all of the people who had visited her in her dream die in the past; there was no way that they could have come back to life. That's when she remembered: Zevran had stabbed her in the dream.

Hesitantly, she looked down to her chest and pulled away her hand, half expecting to see it come away bloody. She was flooded with relief when she saw that there was nothing there; it proved to her that the whole horrible ordeal couldn't be anything but a dream.

The Warden froze when she saw a light from outside the canvas of her tent that was progressively coming closer towards her. Who could it be at this late of an hour?

"Leraen, may I come in?" A voice came from outside and Leraen recognized it right away. It was Teagan.

"Of course," she answered. Her guest, who Leraen noted to still be wearing his daytime clothes, lifted the flap and strode in. The lantern that he carried illuminated his face, which showed great concern when he saw her and the weapon she was cradling.

"Are you all right?" He asked. He sat his lantern down in the corner before he strode over to her. "Why are you holding that dagger so tightly?"

"I'm just fine," she answered quickly, trying to dismiss the obvious fear he held in his eyes. She sheathed the weapon before she placed it back into her bag.

"Leraen, you're trembling," he said with a tone of voice that dripped with concern. He unhooked the clasp that hung around his neck and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. "My tent isn't too far from yours and I heard you scream. I was afraid that something had come to harm you, but I am quite relieved to see you safe. Is there anything you wish to speak of?"

"Did I wake you or the others?" She asked, intentionally ignoring his question.

"No. I have not yet retired for the night," he answered. "I didn't see any evidence that any of our other companions had stirred from their rest, though."

Leraen sighed; from the way that Teagan sat next to and looked at her, it became apparent to her that he wasn't content that Leraen was avoiding the question he had posed to her. He sat patiently next to her, waiting for her to give him a satisfactory answer.

"I just had a bad dream, Teagan. That's all."

"It sounded more like a nightmare to me." He reached over and put an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to quell the shakes that still wracked through her body. "Talking about it may help you out more than you think. There's no need for you to bottle up something as terrible as this, Leraen."

She stayed silent for a moment while she willed her body to become still, but it never did.

"During our travels during the Blight, I had an elf that traveled with us named Zevran. He was Antivan, and had been an assassin back in his country. I befriended him, but we had so many differences between the two of us. Looking back, I can see that there was always a strange wall that separated us both, and that he never really trusted me. I truly wish now that I hadn't ever come to trust him.

"Eventually, he betrayed me along with a group of Antivan thieves called The Crows. To keep myself and my companions safe, I... I had to kill him," she said, her voice trembling more as she recalled the terrible memory. "I never wanted to. I considered him a friend, and had hoped that we could work things out. But... I just..." She shook her head. "In my dream, my family had come back to life. Zevran followed them, found me, and began to chase me. My family died in my dream in the ways that they had died here in real life. Zevran continued to pursue and finally caught me. He fatally stabbed me, and that's when I woke up."

Teagan remained silent for a few moments. Something that looked like pained sympathy was apparent on his face. He moved closer to Leraen and took one of her hands into his own. "I have been blessed with not having to kill many men in my lifetime, and I hope that that will not ever change. But when it has been required of me, I have always loathed it. I do not envy the job you had to carry out during the Blight.

"I can honestly say that I don't have much to give you in comfort save to tell you that you are not to blame for his death. He shouldn't have betrayed you, Leraen. As you said, you were forced into defending yourself. And I know that it must hurt terribly to know that you had to bring him his end, but you mustn't hold yourself responsible. You are a hero, not a murderer."

Leraen halfheartedly nodded, but the shaking still wouldn't stop.

Teagan scowled out of worry. "Why don't we go outside and sit by the fire? Perhaps we can fix some hot tea and talk through things some more." Teagan stretched out a hand towards her. Once she accepted it, he helped Leraen to her feet. When he wasn't looking, she snatched her dagger and strapped it to her calf. After that terrible dream she had experienced she felt far too uncomfortable to let go of it when it was so dark outside.

They both walked out of the tent and sat on a log that lay in front of the fire. Once Teagan was ensured that Leraen was settled, he left for his tent and came back with a small pouch, a black pot, a bottle, and two cups. He filled the pot with water from the bottle and set it near the fire to allow it to boil.

"I know my tea won't be anywhere near as good as Wynne's, but perhaps it will help to calm us so that we can go to sleep," he said, leaning back against the log.

Leraen slightly giggled. "That's fine. She's a mage, so who knows? Maybe she cheats."

"Do you think that she has some spells that miraculously improve her cooking?"

"I bet so. And if it is indeed true that she has such spells, we desperately need to find a way for Leliana to become more magically inclined so that she can learn them."

They both laughed at that.

"Leraen, what did you imagine yourself becoming when you were younger?" Teagan asked once they had both caught their breaths. "Did you ever see yourself becoming the Hero of Ferelden or turning into who you are now?"

Leraen smiled, partly out of surprise that the question gave her.

"Well, I wouldn't call myself the Hero, Alistair was that. But when I was very young, I did often imagine myself slaying dragons, killing darkspawn, and rescuing pretty boys who were too weak to rescue themselves."

They both chucked again at the strange gender reversal for that time that had become part of her childhood fantasies.

"When I grew older, though, I was not quite sure of what I wanted to become. As much as I loved and respected my parents, all I knew was that the last thing I wanted was to be stuck at home embroidering while breeding children for a terrible husband, like the circumstances that many noble women land in. But now..."

"But what?" Teagan asked to motivate her to keep speaking.

"It's just that... I was often envious of Fergus for being able to fight to defend his country and his family and keep them safe. For many of my years I thought that I was born into the wrong gender and wished that I could fight alongside him for the honor and glory that I thought came with such a position. But if I had known about all of the pain, all of the loss, all of the death that was truly present in the situations that came my way since I became a Grey Warden, I think I would have finally heard the wisdom that my mother tried to teach me all of those years and would have thrown away those dreams that have caused me so much hurt."

"But it wasn't your choice to become a Grey Warden, was it?"

"Not necessarily. But I always wondered of what would have happened if I simply refused, or of what would have occurred if I tried to escape from Duncan while he slept on a night during our travels to Ostagar. Would someone else have risen up to take the place as the last Grey Warden? What would have happened to my companions? And Alistair... would his fate have been different?"

"But you didn't do any of those things, Leraen. It's too late to change that," Teagan said, sympathetically grabbing her hand. "You courageously persevered forward on the path that was laid in front of you."

Leraen scoffed.

"Teagan, you give me too much credit. I am not courageous." She began to rub her temples; they were beginning to ache terribly, which was probably brought on by the stress her terrible dream caused. "Would you believe me if I told you that through much of my journey before and after the battle at Ostagar that I wished for nothing more than to have died at the hands of one of Howe's men with my family at Highever? Would you have called me a hero any longer if I told you that the only reason that I was ever able to kill was because of the responsibility I carried for those that I traveled with? Teagan, on the day of the battle at Denerim, I nearly ran away from the battle when I first saw all the darkspawn and the damage and the intense smell of death. When I saw it, the Archdemon instilled so much fear within me that I could hardly fight against it. And when I saw Alistair slain and all of the people who had lost their lives, I wanted nothing else but to die with them, just so that I could end my own misery. How is that brave?"

Teagan stayed silent for a few long moments, his eyes filled with deep sympathy and sadness for the lady who sat next to him. "Is bravery the absence of fear, or the determination to persevere, the humility that is necessary to accept the support and help of others, and the sacrifice that it takes to put others before oneself, even when one might feel that their fear for their own safety might swallow him whole? Leraen, you are brave because you have continued on even though you grow fearful, not because you are always fearless. Allowing your companions to help you stay strong, staying at Denerim to see your mission through, fighting for those who are unable to fight for themselves, deciding to live even though you felt like your pain would crush you is what makes you courageous."

Leraen remained quiet while Teagan moved towards the pot filled with water, poured it equally into the two cups, and dropped some tea leaves from the pouch into them. "You're right, Teagan. I just wish that I wasn't so fearful so often."

Teagan smiled while he came back to Leraen's side with one of the cups of tea in each hand. He handed one to her. "Then I will help you bear that burden. These fears are nothing that you should have to carry alone."

Leraen nodded before saying, "Thank you," while she raised the cup up to her to chin, allowing the steam that the hot water produced to warm her against the nippy night air.

Silence filled the air between Leraen and Teagan, but Leraen didn't mind. The beautiful night sky, the crackle of the fire that burned before her, and the soothing chirps of the crickets nearby made the night absolutely lovely. Once her tea had properly steeped, she took a sip of it, and sighed while she let the hot liquid warm her.

"I'm glad to see that you're not shaking anymore," said Teagan with a smile.

"You're right," said Leraen. She couldn't even remember when the tremors had stopped. "I suppose that I did need someone to offer a listening ear."

"See? There's no need for you to keep these things to yourself, and I am ready to lend you my ear whenever you feel you require it."

"Then I will be sure to find you next time that I have a bad dream." She smiled and squeezed Teagan's hand.

Suddenly, Leraen felt that undeniable tingle that brought her out of her reality with a jolt, causing her to spill her cup of tea onto the ground. She could feel them; sense their footsteps, hear their breaths, smell the stench on their bodies from their last kill. It had been so long since she had felt that strange sensation that it had greatly surprised her, even startled her, but after a few moments she instantly knew what it meant.

"Leraen? Leraen! What's wrong?"

Teagan's urgent tone of voice broke her out of her reverie.

"Darkspawn are coming," said the Warden as she drew the dagger from the sheath on her calf. "Wake the others and arm yourself if you can."

Teagan nodded as he rose from his seat and ran in the direction of the other tents. Leraen ran back to her own as quickly as she could, strapped a quiver to her back, and grabbed her bow.

A woman's scream pierced the silence from the other side of the camp. Leraen froze. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breaths became quick and shallow, and her heart began to beat so quickly that she was sure that the whole of Fereldan could hear it clearly. Was she too late? She nearly cried out at the thought of losing one more person who was dear to her.

Maker, have mercy!


	11. Ambush!

Pull yourself together!

Leraen stood frozen in her tent, unable to shake away the fear that caused her paralysis. Pain gripped at her chest and she suddenly found that it was quite hard to breathe.

Voices came from the outside but they were too muffled for her to understand what was being said, and this gave Leraen pause. Darkspawn didn't talk, and most definitely didn't negotiate. Who was out there?

The Warden slowly took a deep breath and tried to quell the tremors that ran through her body. Though they didn't stop, they did calm down some, or at least enough that she might be able to steadily hold a weapon. You have to go outside, she mentally told herself. How would she be able to live with herself if her fear had kept her from protecting her friends?

After many long, deep breaths, she convinced herself to begin to move. She picked up her bow, strapped her quiver to her back, and hid her dagger in her shirt sleeve before she lifted the flap to her tent and hesitantly stepped outside.

In the middle of the campsite stood not darkspawn, but seven men clothed in black robes. One stood right by the campfire, his eyes filled with urgent intent. In his grasp stood Leliana who was held with a knife at her throat, slightly bent over the fire. She looked quite distressed and had a red spot on her nightdress on her right arm which seemed to be quickly growing more red and moist.

Teagan, Wynne, and Eamon stood at the camp's outskirts with their weapons unsheathed but their bodies unmoving. They stood there, frozen by the unexpected chain of events that were unfolding before them.

Leraen breathed again as she reached behind her to grab an arrow from her quiver, fitting it to the bowstring once it was drawn. She was filled with a strange form of relief; unlike the darkspawn that she had expected to see; men could sometimes be negotiated with or coerced into a different course of action, perhaps. She was also thankful to see that Leliana had not been too badly injured. After the scream she had heard earlier she had feared the worst had happened to her, and was glad to see that she could still rescue her friend.

Leraen felt the distinguishable tingling feeling again, alerting her that darkspawn were still nearby. She willed her hands steady while she defended herself against the fleeting wave of fear that washed over her at the revelation that the monsters hadn't gone away. Oh, Maker, protect us!

"Drop the bow," said the man who held Leliana.

The Warden swallowed before she regained her composure. "We wish for no trouble."

"Neither do we, nor will there be any if you cooperate with us. Drop it."

Leraen smirked. "I can tell you now that if you do anything to harm her I will not hesitate to let this arrow go, and you will not be so confident once it lands."

"Are you really willing to risk her life?"

"Are you willing to risk your own?"

The man blinked, betraying his surprise at the fact that the woman in front of him wasn't being as submissive as he had hoped she would be. Leraen also caught a glimpse of Teagan and Eamon in the corner of her vision who stared at her in a petrified state of shock. Perhaps they really thought that she was intending to gamble with Leliana's life?

"Who are you and what do you want?" Leraen asked.

"Who I am is of no consequence, and you do not need to know anything about our intentions other than the fact that we need you to drop that bow." He added more pressure to the knife that he held to Leliana's throat. She moaned while a drop of blood fell from her chin, her desperate eyes begging Leraen for some escape out of the dreadful place she found herself in.

The sound of rustling leaves and cracking twigs echoed from the forest, and Leraen knew that the darkspawn were getting closer. She inwardly smiled as she dropped her bow; perhaps if they came soon they could take care of their assailants for her. Besides, the man seemed so afraid of Leraen that she hardly doubted that he could panic and hurt Leliana. "There, you have your way. Now what is it that you want?" she repeated.

"Tie her up to a tree at the forest's edge," he ordered to one of the other black-clad men who stood near him, ignoring Leraen's demand for more information. The man that he ordered pulled some rope out of a pocket on his long black robe and moved towards her.

A low, guttural growl sounded from the trees. All of their assailants looked towards the forest edge fearfully, but seemed to not be surprised by the sound at all. Even the man who held Leliana at knifepoint, who seemed to be the band's leader, seemed to be distressed and distracted by the creatures who were hunting them.

"You knew that they were coming, didn't you?" Leraen accused. "Did you think that they were going to stop following your trail? I have to tell you, darkspawn do not give up that easily."

"We weren't counting on them giving up," he said, with annoyance notably creeping into his voice. "Damn it man, hurry and tie her to that tree!"

Leraen grudgingly complied as her new captor wrapped a rope around her hands and began to lead her towards a tree. She knew what they wished to do, then. They wanted to use them all as bait to hold the darkspawn at bay long enough for them to escape.

"You can't do this! Let her go!" a man's voice shouted from behind her. She next heard the same voice give a cry of pain. She twisted her neck as far as it would go to see Teagan bent over and kneeling on the ground with blood dripping from his right side.

Fear filled Leraen at the sight of him. She couldn't lose anyone else; so many people had already died for her. Panic rose in her chest; she couldn't let them hurt Teagan! "No, don't hurt him, please! You already have me – do with me as you will. Leave him alone!" she strained to yell while terror began to grip her voice. She struggled against the man who had bound her wrists but it was all in vain; he wouldn't loosen his grip on her.

"Take me instead of her, please," Teagan whispered, his pain evident through the quiet tone in which he spoke in. "She's with child – please, have mercy." Leraen's heart sank at the sight of him.

"Tie him up with her," the leader ordered, ignoring both of their desperate pleas. "If they are so eager to sacrifice themselves for each other then we should give them the privilege of dying together."

Another one of the men led Teagan to the same tree which Leraen was being tied to. He took a longer rope and looped it around the two of them before he knotted it, ensuring that it was tight enough to keep their prisoners in place. Teagan winced in pain as the rope was wrapped snugly around his injured side.

Leraen fought against the tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks. There had already been far too many sacrificial lambs for her sake, and she couldn't even bear the thought of having anyone else dying for her. First her family, then Alistair, and now Teagan who seemed to be just as willing to bring harm to himself in order to protect her as Alistair had been. Why did they all have to sacrifice themselves? Did they not know the pain that they caused her to see them hurt in her stead?

Leraen blinked and shook herself out of her dark thoughts. It was then that her thoughts returned to the dagger that was hidden in her shirtsleeve and she smiled as she felt the chill of the metal blade against her skin. Their captor was too close, though; he would definitely notice her actions if she started to cut the rope then.

"I'm so sorry, Teagan," she whispered.

"There's no need for you to be," he said quietly in return. "This isn't your fault."

"Are you all right?"

After a moment, Teagan nodded, although the grimace that crossed his face and the scarlet liquid that she saw dripping from his tunic made her doubt that he was telling the truth.

Once the man stepped away, Leraen quietly slipped the dagger out of her sleeve and fitted it into her palm. She carefully began to saw at the rope that bound them, trying her hardest to make sure that she didn't cut her or Teagan's hands as she did so.

"What are you doing?" Teagan whispered.

Leraen promptly shushed him. "Just trust me," she whispered back. She suppressed the urge to cry out as the knife slipped and cut her hand, but kept sawing at the rope with the same vigor, ignoring the stinging pain that ran up her arm. She had to get them out of their binds before the darkspawn found them.

"What are we to do with the others?" One of the black-clad men asked his comrades.

"Tie them up to the other trees as we did with those two," The leader of the band answered. He handed Leliana to one of his companions.

The other men proceeded to walk towards Wynne and Eamon and dread filled Leraen as she watched them take away her helpless comrades' weapons. Come on, come on! Just a little more, she thought to motivate herself. The rope that bound her and Teagan was indeed getting thinner.

The tingling in the back of her mind continued to crescendo. She could hear the darkspawns' footsteps and growling, feel their anticipation over their next kill. Shivers went down her spine and she began to cut at the rope even more quickly.

Suddenly, the rope fell and began to uncoil around Teagan and Leraen. She quickly lunged for her bow, reached for an arrow, and fitted it to the string before any of the men could grab her.

"Catch her!" The leader shouted while he ran after their freed captive. Once the arrow was aimed, she let it fly at him. Leraen scowled; it had missed. Her enemy dashed towards her, his sword poised to kill. She dropped her bow and reached for her dagger again, all the while wishing that she had brought a longer blade. The black-clad man drew close, swinging his sword for her neck. She ducked, and while his sword was still swinging about wildly, she stabbed at his ankles. He grunted in pain before he fell to his knees.

Leraen could hear sizzling and see a flash of white light in her peripheral vision. She strafed to her right and rolled out of the way just in time to be missed by a large shard of ice. She looked up to see one of the men, who was clearly a mage, standing in front of her with his hands glowing and with a furious, yet panicked fire in his eyes. Leraen reached for another arrow while she tried to anticipate his next attack.

The Warden looked to her right to see Teagan, Leliana, Wynne, and Eamon rushing for their stolen weapons. Leraen hurried to cover them before their enemies did, shooting arrows if they came too close. The mage was now throwing fire at them, but the four of them were quick enough to acquire their arms without getting singed.

It was then that Leraen heard it. An inhuman roar came from the forest edge, and from the horrified look on the others' faces, she knew that she was no longer the only one who could hear the monsters' noises.

"They're here!" The leader of the black-clad men shouted. To Leraen's surprise, they all dropped their weapons and began to run towards the road at the opposite side of the camp. It was only a matter of seconds before the fowl beasts, three genlocks and two hurlocks, stepped out of the forest into the open clearing in which the party found them trapped in.

Leraen scowled; she had not missed battling the beasts since the siege upon Denerim. She could smell their stench even from where she stood and sense the bloodlust that they held for their prey. She reached for another arrow while Teagan, Eamon, and Leliana readied their blades and Wynne her magic.

But it seemed to her that Leraen's company was not the targets that they were really after. The five darkspawn ran past Leraen as if she wasn't even present to pursue the robed men who were already attempting to retreat. Clashes of metal were heard from the darkness, but they soon were changed into screams of terror and bloodcurdling cries of pain that made Leraen wince. The noises rose to a din before they quieted into total silence, signaling that the darkspawns' prey had met their end. Were the darkspawn satisfied? Had their bloodlust been sated, or were they planning to come back for more? While Teagan and Eamon slightly relaxed, Leraen refused to allow her muscles to slacken.

Leraen closed her eyes as she allowed her senses to be filled with the darkspawns'. She could still feel them nearby; smell the blood on their breaths, see the flesh under their claws, hear them quietly cackle with delight over their last kill, and feel the thrill that their hunt provided them.

"They're still nearby," she said evenly as she tried to suppress the quakes that tried to take over her limbs again. "They are waiting to surprise us."

Teagan raised his sword as high as he could in his wounded state. "I won't let them touch you," he said to her.

Leraen tried to hide her surprise at his offer of protection. She was used to people begging her for help, and the offer that presented caught her off guard. "Nonsense; they'll lose their limbs before a single one of their claws come near me. It's yourself that you should worry about," she said as she worriedly glanced at the red spot on his tunic.

Oh, please let him be all right.

A twig broke, silencing Leraen and once again alerting her senses. "They're here."

Wynne began an incantation as her hands glowed in a blue light.

"Spread out!" Leraen called. She grimaced once she began to hear their footsteps. The group of darkspawn was still shrouded in darkness since they were too far away for the light from the campfire to reach them, but it wasn't long until a short genlock emerged with a wicked grin on his face and malice in his eyes. Leraen let go of her arrow and it struck true, finding its way into his forehead. He fell over dead with a high-pitched squeal.

A roar came from the darkness and a hurlock and two genlocks came charging towards them. Leliana and Leraen shot as many arrows towards them as they could. The genlocks quickly fell victim to the arrows, but the hurlock seemed to be in so strong a rage that he became nearly unstoppable. He was completely unfazed by the arrows that soon protruded from his skin and the fire that Wynne flung towards him. Eamon stepped forward and blocked his advances, parrying his attacks with his own sword. A swift and strategic slash crippled his left leg and he soon feel to the ground. The darkspawn soon breathed his last as Eamon stabbed his blade into his chest, the creature's eyes filled with anger and disbelief even in death.

Leraen kept her bow steadfast in her hand and signaled for her companions to keep their weapons ready. Wasn't there one last hurlock? She once again closed her eyes and emptied herself of everything as she searched for confirmation to her question. Sure enough, she could still sense him hiding in the shadows. Where was he?

"Wait," she said, readying her bow once more, "there has to be one more left."

She could still hear leaves crunch as he walked around; he had to still be nearby. She searched intently for any signs of him, but saw none in the darkness. But there, she saw something glint in the black. A moment later the hurlock emerged with a bow and arrow aimed towards them.

Leraen stood motionless for a moment and found she was unable to breathe as she saw who he was aiming the arrow at. It was pointed towards Teagan!

Filled with panic, she let her arrow go and it struck the hurlock at his heart. He grunted as blood dripped from his mouth. He began to sway to his left side, but instead of dropping his bow entirely, he let his own arrow fly as he fell to the ground.

"Get out of the way!" Teagan shouted, rushing towards her side in an attempt to shove her out of the arrow's path. With a little help from Teagan's push, Leraen moved to dodge the arrow but it was too late. She cried out as she felt the blade pierce her skin at her shoulder and fell to her knees.

Her vision swam as fear once again filled her. She didn't want to see the arrow and was afraid of what the consequences of her new wound were. Would the baby be all right? Did the arrow strike her in a place that would cause her to bleed out? Would this finally be what would bring the Warden her death?

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and looked to her right shoulder.

"Oh, thank the Maker. It's just a graze," Leraen heard Leliana say. She found that Leliana and Wynne were sitting next to her and examining her wound. That arrow that had struck her lay several feet from her in a patch of clover, its head painted red from her blood.

Teagan stood above her with a sad and yet shocked look in his eyes. "You saved me," he said slowly as his hand turned to his own wounded side.

Leraen smiled softly. "I couldn't let him hurt you. And besides, it seems that you have done the same for me," she said, referencing Teagan's last minute shove to try to get her out of harm's way.

Wynne nodded. "If that arrow had come an inch closer to her and we would have had a nasty wound to take care of."

After quickly examining Leraen's, Leliana's, and Teagan's wounds, Wynne decided that Teagan's stab wound at his side required the most immediate attention. She hurried to gather her bandages and salves before she returned to him. After she tore Teagan's tunic so that she could see his wound, her hands began to glow as she worked to stop the bleeding. Once she was satisfied that the blood flow had ceased, she applied some of a white salve onto the wound and wrapped a bandage around his side. Leraen grimaced at the sight of it; a wound like that without a healer could have easily bedridden him for several weeks if it hadn't killed him. Leraen reached out for Teagan's hand and squeezed it. His face contorted with pain while Wynne treated him, but he didn't cry out or protest her actions.

"You're going to be fine, Teagan," Wynne said. "You just need a bit of time of time to rest. Sleep well tonight. I'd say that we probably should depart later tomorrow than we were planning before."

Teagan nodded, and with a little help, he stood and walked over to speak with his brother. Wynne turned to Leliana and started to treat her wound. Once Wynne was finished, she turned her attention to Leraen.

"Let me see, now," she muttered while she tore the sleeve of Leraen's shirt to get a closer look at her injury. "Oh, Leliana was right. It is only a flesh wound." Wynne sighed with relief. "I'll stop the bleeding and bandage you up. With a good night's rest you should be good as new in the morning."

Leraen nodded and thanked the mage. "Is the baby all right?" She asked, her shaky voice betraying the worry she held for her unborn child.

Wynne nodded while she finished applying a salve onto Leraen's shoulder. "Yes, dear. It's still alive."

"Thank the Maker," the Warden whispered.

"You both are going to fine," Wynne continued. "It will just be very beneficial if you could get some rest."

"That sounds wonderful to me. Thank you, Wynne."

"Don't mention it," The older lady said once she tied off the bandage at Leraen's shoulder and began to examine the knife wound on her left hand. "You were lucky," she said. "If that arrow had flown just a little closer to your shoulder and struck you, you could have bled to death."

"That's a pleasant thought," Leraen said sarcastically.

"You need to be more careful."

"I know, Wynne. I just couldn't stay away. Not when you all were being threatened like you were."

"I understand. I only wish to remind you to keep in mind that you physically have more to take care of than yourself, now." Wynne started to bandage Leraen's hand. "You are responsible for more than just yourself."

"Wynne, I apologize if it seemed that I was too eager to put us both in danger tonight. But even if I hadn't stepped in, those men would have found me and could have done worse things to all of us."

"I agree. I'm not admonishing you, dear. I'm only reminding you to make your decisions with care."

Leraen remained silent as the elder mage finished tying the bandage, took her supplies, and headed for her tent. She still felt adrenaline surging through her veins from the earlier bout and was still in a state of shock from the whole ordeal. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her frayed nerves, but it didn't help much.

It was then that she heard the crunch of leaves coming from her left side. She jerked her head around and pulled out the dagger that had remained sheathed at her shin, half-expecting to see another darkspawn standing there, despite the fact that she couldn't sense it.

"Leraen, it's just me," spoke the man next to her. Leraen sighed with relief. It was only Teagan.

"Don't scare me like that," she said as pushed her dagger back into its scabbard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He came and took a seat on the grass next to her. Leraen noticed that he was already dressed in a new tunic and had cleaned himself since she saw him last. How long had she really been sitting out there? "You seem like you're still a bit jumpy," he added, drawing her out of her thoughts.

"Aren't you?" She leaned back against the pole of the tent behind her. "It's felt like such a long time since I've fought one of those beasts, and I can't say that I missed it in the slightest bit."

"And I don't blame you for that. But after all that happened tonight... Are you sure that you're all right?"

"Yes, Wynne said that I'm fine."

"I think that you know that that's not what I mean."

Leraen sighed again. "I'm just still shaky from the battle. I'll be all right."

Teagan shook his head. "I wished that you didn't have to join the fighting," he admitted. "I was worried for you, Leraen."

Leraen offered a small smile. "Well, we all came out fine."

"I know. There are just more reasons to be careful now, that's all."

Leraen scoffed. "I'm pregnant, Teagan, not made of glass. Besides, my companions and I have gotten clean out of hairier situations than this one tonight. You didn't have much to fear."

"They were planning on using you as bait for the darkspawn – they were going to leave us both to be mutilated by the monsters. I was completely helpless, and there was nothing that I could do to protect you. What do you mean when you say that I didn't have much to fear?"

Leraen didn't have an answer for his question. "You have to know that I couldn't just stay in my tent, Teagan. When I heard Leliana scream I became so afraid when I thought about what could have happened to her. I can't lose anyone else."

Teagan ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Leraen. You must think that I am incredibly insensitive. I understand, but I became so worried for you when they took you. And I think I realized there that I absolutely cannot lose you. I would rather give up my own life than see harm come to you."

Leraen found herself at a loss for words. What did he just say? "Teagan, I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing."

And that was what Leraen did. She sat there in the silence as her confused emotions surrounded her. Did Teagan already have feelings for her? Did he love her? What did he expect from her in return? She pulled her knees up to her stomach and laid her chin on them. If he did have feelings for her, then she didn't know what she could give back to him. Everything was happening so quickly.

Teagan tenderly grabbed her hand. "I cannot imagine how I could live with myself if something ever happened to you."

Leraen lifted her chin and looked at the man who sat next to her. His eyes were filled with nothing but warmth and the corners of his mouth were tinged with a smile. She found herself being unable to do anything but return his smile, which caused Teagan to gently kiss her hand.

He suddenly turned away and retrieved a rag that had lain next to a tent that Wynne must have misplaced. "May I? You have darkspawn blood all over you."

"I do?" It shocked her once she realized that he was right; she was speckled with the scarlet liquid. How could she have forgotten about cleaning it away?

Teagan didn't wait for an answer. He raised the rag towards her arm and she found herself unable to stop his advances. He gingerly began to rub away at the ichorous substance. "This stuff is poisonous, isn't it?"

Leraen nodded. "I'm usually more on top of cleaning it off, but with everything that happened it just left my mind."

"I can understand that."

The Warden sighed as she felt her fear begin to dissipate. "Teagan?" she started.

"What?"

"Thanks for looking out for me."

Teagan smiled as he moved to her other arm. "I will always be watchful for you, Leraen."

He then carefully came closer to her, moving the now bloodied rag towards her face. Tenderly, he began to rub the blood off of her cheeks, being careful not to bring the liquid in contact with her eyes. "Promise me that you will keep yourself safe?" he asked. "You see, Eamon might require of me to depart with him to Redcliffe tomorrow, and Leraen, I do not wish to go. I don't want to leave you. The very thought of it saddens me terribly. But will you promise me that you will take care of yourself if I have to depart?"

Leraen nodded as she was further confused by the feeling of dread that filled her stomach. She had known that he was to leave soon – traveling to Redcliffe was the very reason that Eamon and Teagan had joined them on their journey - but she discovered that she had come to appreciate his company, his support, his understanding. Did he really have to leave?

"Of course, Teagan. I promise," she forced herself to say, despite how much she wished to plead with him to stay.

Teagan set down the rag and grasped her hand once again. "Thank you," he said as he tentatively kissed her cheek. "I will be sure to hold you to that promise."

"And will you promise to return?" Leraen found herself asking.

Teagan blinked. "Of course. I will meet up with you in Denerim once matters are wrapped up at home."

"I will miss you."

The man next to her smiled again. "I will miss you, too."

The two of them sat there for a time, listening to the crackle of the fire, the chirp of the crickets, and watching the tinkling of the stars above them. Leraen smiled. It was next to him that she felt safe, even when everything else seemed readied to swallow her whole. She would miss him, indeed.

"Do you think that you will be able to go back to sleep?" he asked at last.

Leraen shuddered at the thought of trying to go back to sleep in her tent again. What if the nightmares came back, or if the hallucinations of Alistair would come to haunt her again? Her aching body still begged her for rest and she was afraid of how she would fare if she was unable to give in to its demands. "I don't know," she finally answered.

"Well," Teagan started, "if this idea makes you uncomfortable we can throw it away altogether, but would you able to sleep if you had someone with you?"

Leraen nearly blanched. "You don't mean sleeping as in spending a night together, right?"

"Oh, no. Not that." Teagan chuckled. "I didn't word that very well, did I?"

"No, you didn't." Leraen giggled.

"What I really meant is that we can grab our bedrolls and set them up in front of the campfire. That way, you don't have to be by yourself and we might be better prepared if more baddies come back. Can you sense the darkspawn in your sleep?"

Leraen nodded her answer. "But what if we're caught by our companions? I don't want to start any false rumors."

"That's why we will sleep outside. If we stayed together in a tent we would be in quarters that would be too tight and too intimate a setting; it would cause our comrades to become too suspicious. By being outside where people could see us in plain sight our intentions will appear to be less sensuous."

Leraen hesitated. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with him so close made her feel violated. The only man who wasn't a family member that she had ever allowed near her while she was asleep was Alistair, and it felt wrong to give Teagan that privilege. But then again, her eyes were so very heavy, and with the battle that happened that night she doubted that she would even get a blink of sleep if she was by herself. By having Teagan near her, the apparitions of Alistair might not come to her so easily and she might have someone nearby to comfort her if the nightmares came back again. "I think it sounds like a good plan," she finally said.

"We should go fetch our bedrolls, then." Teagan offered her a hand and she took it before he helped her to her feet. She walked to her tent, changed out of her bloody clothes into a clean nightdress, grabbed her bedroll, and walked back to the campfire, laying it down on a spot that was a safe distance from the flames. Teagan laid his a few feet away from hers, but close enough that they could still see and speak to one another.

"Sleep well," he called once they were settled down into their blankets. "Don't be afraid to wake me if anything happens, all right?"

Leraen nodded. "I won't be. Goodnight, Teagan."

"Goodnight."

Leraen smiled as her eyelids fluttered closed. Even after all the chaos that the night had brought to her, it was there that she felt the safest, protected, and most wanted. She sighed as the warmth from the fire warmed her feet and surrounded her. She quickly fell sound asleep in the quiet of the night, filled with nothing but comfort, feelings of safety, and contentment in her little refuge.

She slept better that night than she had in a long time.


	12. Be Still, My Bewildered Heart

I am back! I am so happy to FINALLY publish this next chapter for my readers! I hope you enjoy! Stay tuned; I have the next chapter already written and ready for a final read-through which I hope to post next week.

Many thanks go to inkedhearts who edited through the majority of this fic, which at 47k words is quite a feat. I appreciate it so much!

* * *

The birds' songs were what roused Leraen out of her deep slumber. She smiled, but refused to open her eyes, instead taking in the scene around her from behind the darkness of her eyelids. She could hear the calling birds that signaled the arrival of dawn, the chirping crickets that were bringing their nocturnal symphony to a close, and the chattering squirrels that began their morning hunt for nuts. She sighed contentedly as she entangled her fingers in his tunic and carefully wrapped her arms around his torso so that she wouldn't wake him up. She could feel her head rise and fall with his deep breaths, hear his calmed, steady heartbeat that pounded in his chest, feel his own warm embrace around her. The idea that she would soon have to rise from her place beside him brought her a fleeting pang of sadness, but she shoved it away. Who said they would have to leave each other's company so soon after they awoke?

"Alistair," she whispered sweetly, her eyes still tightly shut. She waited for him to respond in kind, to twist his own fingers in her hair, and to kiss her good morning as they had done every day for so long, but it never came. She frowned as she opened her eyes.

Leraen almost yelped out loud when she suddenly realized that it was not Alistair who lay beside her. Teagan, who was to Leraen's relief still soundly asleep, had his arms wrapped gently around her midsection. Her head was lying on his still shoulder. Carefully, she lifted her head and untangled his arms from around her. Once free from his grasp, she gingerly moved away from him and rose to her feet, trying her best to see that her movements would not rouse him.

Leraen walked back to her own tent so that she could change out of her nightdress, almost trembling as she donned the day's new pair of leggings and a tunic. It had just been so terrible to find herself next to him;she so wished that she hadn't agreed to sleep near him the night before. An odd mixture of feelings that she was experiencing highly confused her: on one hand, even though he was gone, she felt that she still, in her heart and body, belonged to Alistair. Waking in the embrace of another man made her feel as if she had betrayed him. On the other hand, she felt elated and joyful after waking near Teagan. She felt loved and protected when she found herself in his embrace, knew that he had accepted her for who she was: scars and all, and truly understood that he was willing to stay by her through the whole mess that they found themselves trudging through.

And that elation made her feel even guiltier.

"Stop it," she ordered her eyes as she felt them grow wet once again. She didn't need any more of that. Not now, not today; not when she had finally felt some semblance of the happiness that had so long seemed to have fled from her. Leraen shook her head and wiped away her tears; this was not the time to start crying again. She had already gone over this with herself far too many times. There was no need to be feeling so guilty about all of this. She knew that Alistair would understand, if not be overjoyed that she was being kept safe and had found happiness with someone else in his absence. But if that was true, why did she feel like such a traitor to him?

She threw a cloak around her shoulders to protect her against the nippy early morning air before she exited her tent. She walked outside, past the man who still slumbered on the ground where she had left him, and walked past the tree line into the forest's edge that surrounded the boundary of their camp. She breathed in deeply as she took in the lovely scene around her: the birds that frolicked playfully over her head as they sang about the beautiful morning, the rich smell of the evergreens that flourished in the wood and their needles that covered the ground, the small animals that scurried about in preparation for the new day, and the trees that waved their leaves around as they danced in celebration of the joy that the sunshine brought.

As she continued walking, her heart sang at the new sound she heard: it sounded like a nearby brook! She hurried towards the sound of the water and smiled when she found it. A clear, rather shallow, bubbling creek, surrounded by trees and flowering shrubs, cut through the woods. She carefully walked down to the water and stuck her bare feet in the liquid. She flinched at first at the chilly temperature of the water, but once her feet became accustomed to it, the water felt incredibly soothing. Leraen rolled up her leggings and waded further into the shallow water that came up to her lower thighs, smiling as the cool water kissed her skin.

She laughed out of pleasure as she stood there in the water, spinning and cupping the water in her hands as she did so. She remembered the fond memories of the times that she and Fergus would spend playing in the creek near Highever, and she began to truly miss those carefree days. Matters were so much simpler all those years ago than they were now, and she longed so badly for that simplicity. That was what made the brook that she waded in so beautiful: all that mattered at that moment was herself, the cool water, and the babe that she carried with her. She could forget all about her worries, her struggles, and the sorrows that always seemed to be so strongly pulling for her attention.

A hand flew to her stomach as she thought about the baby and her lips turned upward in a smile. She had been so busy in mourning Alistair's death that she had hardly even considered the joy that she bore over her coming child. Wynne had said that she was probably six weeks along, and she felt as if the time that she had until she could meet the baby was moving incredibly slowly. Wynne also said that, if she carried the babe full term, that she probably had seven months left, give or take a week or two. The thought of how long she had left until she could finally hold her little baby in her arms filled her with both impatience and excitement.

While she would love the child just the same no matter the gender, she liked the idea of having a little girl. Even when Leraen was a child, she would dream of all the ribbons that she could adorn her daughter's hair with, the dresses that she could dress her in, of all the stories of princesses that she could tell her of, of the advice that she could give to her regarding the many lads that she was sure would come to pursue her hand. But regardless of those fantasies, she knew that she would have quite a bit of fun teaching a boy how to shoot a bow, how to spar, and teach him how to woo the ladies that he might fancy. Besides, Teagan might be more familiar with dealing with boys as well.

Leraen was surprised at the flutter that rose in her chest at the thought of him. He had been so kind and gentle to her the night before, and she had, admittedly, slept the most and the best for the first night in what felt like weeks, which she was eternally grateful for, especially after the exhausting day before. She felt terrible that she hadn't been as receptive to him as she felt she should have been. She couldn't imagine how frustrating it could have been to Teagan: to be betrothed to a woman who had previously been married to a man that she had to compare him to; to be charged to romantically pursue a woman who was too sorrowful to fully accept or encourage his advances. She shook her head. She wished she could shake off her feelings of betrayal so that she could more fully accept Teagan like he had accepted her. She truly thought that she could be able to fall in love with him if her bewildered heart ever gave her the chance.

* * *

Teagan slowly opened his eyes as he felt his arms being lifted, her head rising from off of his chest, and noticed the absence of her warm body from his grasp. He scratched his head as Leraen stood, walked away, and slipped into her tent. What had happened? Had she just called him Alistair? He sighed as he realized that they must have somehow become entangled between each other as they slept. He could still sense her warmth against his body; feel the weight of her head that she had pressed against his shoulder. And now that it was absent, he realized that he longed for nothing but for it to return. He refrained from rising to meet her and pretended to be asleep once she exited her tent and retreated for the trees. He didn't want her to feel guilty for waking him, embarrass her by bringing up the accidental entanglement, or let her realize that he had heard her call him by the name of her dead lover. It had all just been a mistake, anyway.

Once she was gone he left for his own tent to dress for the day, choosing a pair of leggings, a loose cotton tunic, and fur-lined shoes. Once he was certain that she had gained a bit of a lead ahead of him, he began to follow her, being careful to not be overly loud or leave any obvious footprints. As much as he was sure that she needed her privacy, he felt his need to ensure that she was still traveling safely. Especially after the darkspawn attack the night before, he was left with a pressing worry of her safety while she ran off to be by herself.

Once he entered the woods he completely understood why Leraen would retreat to there: the singing birds, the shining sun, the sweet, floral-scented fresh air, and the bright wildflowers seemed to be beautiful and serene enough to erase all worries that one could carry. He continued to quietly follow her down the winding path, down a hill, and towards the sound of gentle, flowing water. He stopped behind a tree and watched her as she waded knee-deep into the water, squealing at first at the presumed chill of it, and later laughing as she spun around, splashing water about as she did so. Teagan smiled at the scene. He couldn't remember the last time that he had seen her smile so genuinely or heard her laugh so joyfully.

And then, she started to sing! Her voice lilted with a gleeful song and sounded incredibly sweet as she poured her heart into the lyrics. She spun with the rhythm, continuing to fling water and splash as she did so, which would only cause her to giggle again. Teagan raised a hand to his lips to stifle a chuckle. After such a dark time, it gladdened him greatly to see her in such a gleeful mood.

It was then that he decided to join her; surely she wouldn't mind to share the apparent joy of the sparkling water. He promptly walked over to the path from his spot behind the tree.

"Teagan, were you spying on me?" Leraen asked once he appeared. She playfully cocked an eyebrow towards her betrothed.

"Of course not, Leraen. I just saw you come towards the woods and heard you singing out here, and I thought that I would come join you," he said with a smile.

"That's what I thought, you spy," Leraen said as she sent him a knowing wink. She knew that he had really come to check on her. She would have been slightly annoyed at his fear for her safety had this happened a few days prior. After all, she was very capable of taking care of herself. But now she only found his concern sweet. And after the attack that had occurred the other night, who could blame him for his worries? He had saved her life, after all.

"And what do you think you're doing out here, anyway?" he asked as he laughed at the smirking woman who stood before him. He stopped on a rock and began to pull off his shoes before he approached the water himself. "Isn't it a little too, you know, cold to be wading in a spring? It is only mid-morning on a day in Draconis."

"The water isn't so bad once you get used to it." She smiled as she walked out of the water towards him and took his hands into her own. "Come on. It's refreshing – trust me."

"All right," he agreed hesitantly as she half-dragged him towards the brook. She turned around and began to walk backwards so she could look at him as he first stepped into the water, laughing as he shrieked at the coldness of the water. "It's too cold!" Teagan exclaimed. "How can you stand it?"

"It's not that bad, really!" she said as she giggled. "Why don't we wade a little further in? You will adapt to it more quickly this way."

Teagan said nothing as she led him towards the deeper part of the water. He bit his lip and braced himself against the breathtakingly chilly liquid.

"Now, don't panic, Teagan. It's not so cold if you relax."

Teagan relaxed his tightened shoulders and tried to quell the shivering that threatened to run through his body. He opened his eyes and unclenched his teeth. When he opened his eyes, he found his betrothed presenting him with the brightest smile he had ever seen on her face. If that wasn't enough to warm him up, he could not think of what would. He smiled gently in return, although he was sure that his charmed and bewitched expression paled in comparison to the glow that emanated from her face.

"See? It feels so good once you allow yourself to get used to it."

"Aye, it does." He squeezed her hand. "But do you know what will feel really good? I feel like I will truly become accustomed to the chill this way."

"I think that I am a step ahead of you, Teagan," she said with a mischievous smirk. He didn't have to completely suggest what they should do for her to start that game. It was then that she quickly pulled her arms around his midsection and pulled him under with all of her strength, both squealing as they plunged under the freezing water. Leraen shot up to the surface quickly, and so did Teagan, but they both couldn't stifle the laughs that arose in them.

"That was really cold!" Teagan exclaimed as he surfaced, shaking his head at the craziness of their mid-morning submersion. "You are quite unpredictable, Leraen Cousland," the man across from her said in between his chuckles. "I would have not thought that I would wake up to this last night."

"Then you are simply in need of more adventure, Teagan. Don't you agree that we need a reasonable dose of spontaneity every now and then?"

"Only if I have you by my side," he answered with a smile.

Leraen paused for a moment before she shyly smiled back. "How could I ever deny an adventure?"

He took her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I think you are right, though: I do need to be more spontaneous. May I?" He laughed as he gingerly placed an arm around her waist. "Leraen, for so long I tried to stifle it, to suppress my admiration and affections."

"That's not a secret," she said as she cupped her hands in front of her and splashed the cold water towards him.

"Hey!" he shouted as he raised his arms in front of his face in a vain attempt to shield himself. "I'm being serious, I swear!"

"Well then, don't allow me to interrupt you. Please continue."

Teagan shook his head. "You are impossible. But I said I was being serious and I meant it." He walked closer towards her. "You must know this, my precious lady: I love you, and I have been silent about it for too long a time. I have found it nearly impossible to be quiet about it any longer."

Leraen paused, completely taken aback by his honest confession. Affection and admiration was one thing that she knew that he bore for her, but love? That was another matter altogether and it caught her in a total state of surprise. "You do?"

He nodded. "I do not require anything back in return other than for you to allow me to love you. I know that this time is quite confusing for you, but I will not allow you to admit feelings that you do not possess in order to please me."

Leraen remained silent for a long moment. His eyes sparkled and a glowing smile twitched at his lips. "Oh, Teagan..." she finally managed to say. Her lip quivered as she took in his wet body, laid her head on his shoulder, and buried her fingers into his soaked tunic. A large part of her was overjoyed to hear him pronounce his feelings for her. But with his admission a new question arose: was she capable of loving him back? She nearly trembled as he wrapped his arms around her torso.

She sighed as she allowed herself to relax in his embrace. This: another's loving touch, was what she missed since Alistair's death. She felt so safe, so cared for in his arms. "Thank you, Teagan," she began, "for everything. For your care, your patience, your love." She laid a hand on his chin and pulled it down so that she could plant a kiss on his cheek. "But I am afraid that I must beg for your patience for a little more time."

She detached herself from his grasp and headed for the bank of the brook before she finally sat down. He followed and took a seat beside her.

"You know that I can still see him sometimes," she admitted. "Alistair. He watches us. Even though I know that he is simply an apparition, I feel that he too often reminds me of his spirit that might be able to spy on us."

Teagan remained silent, but listened nonetheless. He decided that it still was not the best time to admit that it was Alistair himself who had asked Teagan to look after Leraen. Somehow it seemed to him that Leraen would take it to mean that Teagan was only caring for her to honor the final request of a man who believed he was doomed to death who had sadly been destined to depart, indeed.

"I know that he wishes for nothing by my happiness. He even left writings for me that recorded his wishes for me to find love with someone else in his absence! But I just, I can't..."

Teagan took her hand into his own. "Leraen, it is so soon after his death. I am sorry, perhaps I should have used a little more discretion in my decision to admit how I felt."

"No, it's all right. The fault of my feelings lies solely with me."

Teagan shook his head as if he didn't believe what he said to be true, but said nothing more to argue. "I will repeat this, though: I meant what I said. I love you, Leraen. I truly do, but I do not require of you to show me some false feelings in return. All that I ask is that you allow me to show that love to you."

Leraen smiled before she wiped moisture away from her eyes. "Only if you promise to continue to wait for me."

Teagan extended a hand towards her. "Deal." Leraen took his hand and gave it a single, firm shake.

Leraen giggled as he looked into her eyes, and she looked into his. His deep, beautiful blue eyes captivated her. She almost didn't notice when he pulled her closer. She once again laid her head on his shoulder while he brushed a dripping lock of hair out of her face. Teagan gently caressed her face with a single finger, tracing along her cheekbones and down her jawbone, stopping once he had reached her chin. Leraen found herself unable to stop him. She felt so entrapped by him, and she loved how his attention to her made her feel, but guilt rose in her at the thought of her departed beloved. Still, she found herself frozen in place by the man who caressed her. It was then that he pulled her closer towards him, causing panic to bubble in Leraen's chest. Was he planning to kiss her? Indeed, he cupped his hands around her face and began to brush his lips against her own.

She was filled with warmth as she wrapped her arms around his waist, entangling her fingers in his shirt. His hands moved to her wet hair as he continued to press his lips against hers, and she was made so glad by his touch.

But there, on a nearby rock, she could see another man sitting there watching them. His sandy blonde hair and silver armor glinted in the sunlight. He brought an apple to his lips and took a bit out of it before gently smiling that all too familiar grin at her.

Seeing Alistair sitting there on the rock caused Leraen to pull away from Teagan. "What's wrong?" he asked, his face creasing in concern.

Leraen shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware of how cold her wet body had become against the mid-morning air. Even though she knew that Alistair was truly no longer with them, his appearance once again filled her with the guilt she felt from finding the bit of happiness she had felt while she was with Teagan.

"This was a mistake," she said quickly as she rose from where she had sat. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Leraen, wait!" Teagan hurried to walk after her, but by her hurried walk, it became apparent that she did not wish to be followed.

Teagan ran his hand through his hair out of frustration - not for the woman who he had just offended, but out of his own carelessness, impatience, and lack of consideration for fragile Leraen. How could he have been so insensitive? He had taken her sunny mood as a sign that he could finally tell her about how he had felt for so long, but to act on that feeling was a whole different issue. "Stupid," he muttered under his breath as he gathered his things and began to walk back to their camp.

* * *

Leraen hurried back to her tent once she reached their campsite. She walked past Leliana who was washing clothes in a wooden bucket, past Eamon who tended to a fire, and Wynne who was busy preparing breakfast. She ignored their curious glances at her dripping body; she knew it must have seemed strange that she would have gone swimming on a cold morning like that one.

"Good morning, Leraen! Would you like some tea before we eat?" Wynne kindly asked as the Warden passed by. As much as it hurt her, Leraen ignored the elder lady and continued to walk as quickly as she could towards her tent. She felt that she simply had to retreat to the quiet and solitude that only her tent could provide.

She collapsed once inside, hugged her knees to her chest, and covered her cold, trembling body with a spare blanket. She wiped the moisture that had leaked from her eyes away; as terrible as she felt, her intention to have a mostly tear-free day that she had woken up with that morning remained.

"Leraen, may I come in?" came Leliana's voice from outside her tent. The Warden sighed; it seemed that her time spent alone would once again be short-lived.

"Of course," she forced herself to say. Once Leliana entered, Leraen patted a spot on the grass next her. Her friend gladly sat down.

"Are you doing all right?" the bard asked after she plopped down on the ground. Leraen shook her head, but found her lips silent; they simply would not allow her to supply a reason to explain why she felt so awful. "Leraen, please. After all that we have been through together you know you can tell me anything. What's wrong?" she asked again with traces of concern in her voice. "Where is Teagan?"

"He's- he's coming." She said, finally finding the strength to speak while she waved a stray lock of wet hair out of her face. "He's completely fine. We had spent some time down by a brook in the woods."

"That explains why you're all wet," she said with a gentle smile. "He didn't try to, well, coerce you into anything, did he?"

"No, nothing like that," Leraen said hurriedly in an attempt to dismiss her suspicious thoughts.

"Then what has upset you so? The water wasn't that cold, was it?"

"No," she answered. She took a deep breath; she knew that she couldn't hide anything from her prying friend for too long. "Leliana, he - he kissed me."

"He kissed you!" Leliana exclaimed as a smile formed at her lips. "How lovely! Did you let him?"

"Yes, well, not really," she answered, partially grinning at her ambiguous answer. "I didn't tell him no."

Leliana rolled her eyes and shook her head but retained her smile. "Well, how did it feel?"

Leraen paused. She could still almost feel his lips against hers, his fingers twisted in her hair or his arms wrapped around her waist. "It - it was lovely, indeed," she said, and surprised herself as she realized that those feelings had been true. "I felt so safe. And do you know what he told me? He told me that he loves me, and that he has for a long time."

"Truly?" Leliana emitted a girlish sigh, provoking Leraen to take her turn in rolling her eyes. Leliana was such a romantic. "Then why are you so upset? Leraen, Teagan loves you and seems to want nothing but to protect and provide for you."

Leraen began to play with a blade of grass. "Have you ever wondered how our lost loved ones would react to us if they saw how we act after their departure?"

Leliana's smile faded. "Leraen, you know that Alistair wanted nothing else but for you to remain happy after his death."

"I know that, and I am constantly reminding myself of that. But what if he could see what was happening now that he's gone? Would he be jealous? Would he become angry and disappointed that I didn't wait longer to find love with another man? It has only been a month since he died, Leliana. Only a month. And I am already beginning to allow Teagan to steal my heart." Leraen wiped her eyes. "I still see him, you know. And it seems as if the sole reason he is there is so he can watch me."

Leliana remained silent for a long moment.

"Leraen, I can't even imagine the pain that you are going through right now. To lose a lover, especially after the loss of your family – it's such a terrible fate! But we cannot remain in this state of sadness, especially for Alistair's sake. Could you tell me why Alistair gave himself up for you, Leraen?

Leraen gave the other lady a puzzled look. "So that I could live in his place."

"Yes, Leraen! He loved you so much that he could not bear the thought of you sacrificing yourself for him, king or not. But do you think that he left you behind so that you could grieve his departure, even when you have another who is ready to care for you?"

Leraen paused. As much as it hurt, she knew Leliana was right; Alistair would be sad to see her in her current emotional state. "No, he didn't."

"He died so that you could live, Leraen; not quietly dwindle away in sadness. He left you with such a blessing! If time is what you need, then it is there for you to take. We all know that such terrible wounds need healing and too often leave awful scars, but we are here for you with the medicines and the wrappings that you need to feel better. You just have to allow yourself to show enough weakness to let us help you and allow yourself to be affected by a feeling other than grief."

Leraen nodded, finding that she was unable to voice her consent. She agreed with what Leliana was saying, but she still hurt so much at the idea of betraying Alistair that she couldn't bring herself to fully accept was her friend was telling her.

It was then that she heard his voice echo from outside of her tent. "Leraen, could I come speak with you for a moment?" said Teagan.

Leliana smiled at her friend before she rose to leave. "Be nice to him," Leliana whispered. "All he is trying to do is to take care of you."

Leraen nodded again but remained silent as she walked out, greeting Teagan as she did so. The older man entered and carefully took his seat across from where she was sitting.

"You left your cloak and shoes by the brook," he said as he laid them down at her feet.

"Oh, you're right. I'm so clumsy! Thank you for fetching them for me." She set them next to her bag.

"Look at us; we're absolutely soaked," he said as he shook his head. "What were we thinking?"

Leraen managed to return a small smile. "That is a good question, indeed. The water felt good at the time."

Teagan nodded. "That it did."

He began to nervously play with a blade of grass as silence once again filled the space between them. "I was talking to Eamon this morning after we came back from the brook, and we have decided that it probably would be best for both of us if we did leave each other's company. Eamon and I both have business to finish at Redcliffe before I can leave for Denerim, and some time apart to mull our situation over might not be a bad idea, either."

Leraen stifled a sigh and a pressing need to cry again. Even though his kiss that morning had terribly surprised and unnerved her, she would have never wished for him to leave. Sadness filled her at the thought of his absence, and she discovered that even though she had known that they were to separate to attend to their own matters, she had truly hoped this whole time that Teagan would decide to follow her back to the castle, if for no other reason than to be with her. She shook her head; what a fickle, jumbled woman this man had turned her into!

But she knew that Eamon and Teagan were right. Some time spent apart would probably be what was best for both of them.

"How long will you be gone?" she forced herself to ask.

"Two months at the most, although it will probably be more like five or six weeks. I would like to be back in time to help with wedding preparations."

She nodded. "Teagan, I - I must admit," she began, her nervousness causing her to stammer. "I wish that you wouldn't go."

Silence once again reigned between them as the man across from her turned his eyes downward and sighed. He seemed to be just as confused as she was, and with how she had been acting towards him, she couldn't blame him at all for that feeling. She was quite confused at her own behavior as well. "I am truly sorry, Leraen. This is something that I must do. Surely you know that some time apart will be good for both of us."

Tears leaked out of Leraen's eyes. His words sounded forced, like he was making himself say them. Did he really wish to stay, or had her reaction to him that morning forced him to feel like he had to leave? Was it something that Eamon had convinced him to consent to? She wiped the moisture away from her cheeks. Even though his decision stung, she still had to admit that he was right. A separation would give them both some much needed time to think over personal matters that had been neglected.

"You should get out of those wet clothes," Teagan said at last. "Eamon will want to leave as soon as we can. Are you not cold?"

That caused a small smile to come from Leraen; she had completely forgot about how entirely soaked she was. "I am, now that you mention it."

Teagan smiled as well as he stood from where he sat. "We will wait for you outside with something to eat. Come as quickly as you can - we don't want Eamon to become too cross from waiting."

Leraen quietly watched as he turned around and left her tent. The next hour and what occurred during it - the clothes she donned and the hair she apparently braided, the packing, the meal she ate before they left, flew past in a blur that she seemed completely unable to keep track with. Her feet took her places without her permission but she found herself unable to care. In an almost ethereal sense she felt that her body was operating independently, leaving her solely to attend to her own tumultuous thoughts. Before she knew what had brought her there, she found herself saddling her horse for the final ride back to Denerim alongside her companions, who seemed to have decided that it would be best to leave her alone. And for that, she could not find any fault that lay with them.

The beginning of the ride was quiet. It was slow paced to make up for the injuries that the party had accrued the night before, for which they all were grateful; a bumpy ride on the back of a horse was never comfortable for wounded riders.

But it was Teagan, who remained silent, who kept his eyes downcast that saddened Leraen. Had she truly hurt him that badly?

After the long ride, they finally found themselves at the road that branched off towards Redcliffe. The two men dismounted their steeds, gathered their things from the carriage, stuffed them into saddlebags, and prepared to go on their way.

Dread rose in her as Teagan turned to face her. He slowly walked towards her, his eyes faced towards the ground, twiddling his thumbs as he approached.

"I'm sorry for this morning," Leraen found herself whispering to him once he stopped next to her horse's withers.

"My lady, you have nothing to be sorry for," he said as he gave her mare a soft pat on her neck. "Truly, I should not have acted the way I did. I should have been more patient with you, and for that I must apologize."

"Perhaps we can both claim some guilt for this?" she said as she shook her head. The events between the two of them had turned into such a silly misunderstanding, anyway. "I will truly miss you, Teagan."

"And I will miss you. I will count the days until we can reunite."

"As will I."

With a smile, he left and approached his own mount. Leraen once again shook her head; while he was very kind in his correspondence with her, she could still sense from him a feeling of embarrassment and shame on his part. She wished for nothing else but to reassure him otherwise, to make him believe that it had only been a mistake in communication, an error made in weakness when there was no one around to keep them accountable. But with all their comrades around who were watching them intently she knew that it would only be inappropriate and did not wish to embarrass him further in front of them. She would have to arrange a visit to Redcliffe or write to him, she decided. She did not wish him to think that she was ashamed of him or how he had treated her, for there was none for him to find there.

With a final round of goodbyes and well wishes, the two men once again mounted their horses and cantered off into the distance towards their way home. But there, Leraen could see Teagan give one final wave farewell as they rode over the hill, and she could do nothing but return the gesture.

She would miss him, indeed.


	13. Sunset

Virtual cookies go to ElizabethGW and FearNotTheNight for the reviews and to everyone else who put this story on favs or on alert. I can't thank you enough! :)

* * *

"Leraen, are you feeling well?"

The Warden refused to look up at Leliana as she asked that question. Her left hand remained locked over her stomach as her right gripped tightly at the reins. Wynne had warned her of this, but no preparation, no anticipation could prepare her for the nausea that had filled her that evening, and she was sure that her strange mixture of emotions that had been stirred up by Teagan's departure was not helping. She was pretty certain that holding back tears for hours on end had a part in it, too. In fact, her eyes ached from the threatening moisture that kept trying to escape. She had hoped that she would be able to make it until they got to Denerim, but the sun was now beginning their descending course, and they were not nearly as close to their new home as Leraen wished. Their pace had been slow to make up for the injuries that some of them had acquired the night before, and it was becoming more apparent that they would either have to stop for the night or travel in darkness.

The nice, peaceful, and quiet ride had done little to quell her sadness. If anything, it had only made her realize how much she wished that Teagan hadn't left. She missed seeing his smiling face beside her, hearing and participating in his polite conversation, hearing his laugh. The traveling party wasn't the same without it. All the convincing in the world that she tried to use against herself, all the swearing she forced herself to say to make herself believe that their separation was for the best, couldn't make her miss him any less. These thoughts only made her feel worse, and the sadness of them fueled the nausea even further.

It was then that she knew that she could no longer keep it down. With urgency she dropped the reins, dismounted her horse, and rushed to a bush at the side of the road. With unexpected force she heaved up the contents of her stomach, being driven to her knees to kneel over the branches as she waited for it to finish. Dry heaves wracked through her body and caused water to come to her eyes; her stomach did not seem content to be finished even when it was clear that it had already been emptied. Her body began to shake as she heard one of her companions walk toward her.

"Handkerchief?" the voice asked once the heaves had finished. Leliana smiled as Leraen turned to face her. Wynne stood behind her at the path with the horses and a look of concern on her face.

"Thanks," Leraen voiced. She took hold of the cloth and wiped her mouth. She tried to stand but the motion caused her head to swim, which caused her to sit back down as she tried to catch her breath. She regretted jumping off her horse; the ankle that she had broken during the battle with the Archdemon ached from the impact of the fall. Embarrassment also swelled inside of her. While morning sickness was not something that she could necessarily control, and even though she knew that Wynne and Leliana would think nothing of it, having to stop at the side of the road to empty her insides wasn't exactly a dignified thing to have to do in front of her companions.

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" Leliana asked. Leraen could see concern in her eyes as well, perhaps pity? "I'm sorry that you're not feeling well."

"It's all right," Leraen answered. "I just need a some time to rest, I think."

Out of her peripheral vision Leraen could see Wynne tether the horses to some nearby trees. She began to approach Leraen and sat down near her, smiling warmly. "What would you say to some peppermint tea?" she asked. "It should help to settle your stomach."

"That sounds lovely," Leraen said slowly. Leliana stood up wordlessly and walked to some nearby trees to look for some wood and kindling to light a fire with. "I'm sorry, Wynne. I didn't mean to stop us."

Wynne scoffed. "Teagan is right, Leraen. You do apologize too much. It is nothing! At least we now know that you are _truly_ pregnant, dear," Wynne said with a smirk as she stood to grab a saddlebag off of her horse. "Perhaps we should stop for the day? I think that some rest might do you good."

"If you think it's best," she said. "I don't want to wish us to stop on my account; I know that we were planning on reaching Denerim tonight."

"Well, I am quite saddlesore and I know that Leliana tired of driving the carriage. Perhaps this is the excuse we need to stop and recuperate for tomorrow. Besides, traveling in the dark does not sound appealing to me. We don't have much daylight left, after all."

Wynne thanked Leliana once she returned as she dumped some dried branches into a ditch. It didn't take long until Wynne had set them alight, producing heat to combat the chilliness that had become heavy in the evening air. The mage filled a pot with water and set next to the fire to allow it to boil.

"I think I'm getting a little hungry. Would either of you like me to fetch something for dinner?" Leliana asked, rubbing her growling stomach.

Leraen frowned; the idea of having something to eat made her feel dizzy again. "I think I'll wait until later to have something to eat. Thanks, though."

"I am hungry, now that you mention it. Dinner sounds wonderful," said Wynne. "Thank you for the offer, Leliana."

She nodded as she once again retreated to the woods. Wynne left for a minute for the carriage and returned with some bread and cheeses that they had packed with them before they left Highever.

"You should try to eat. A little bread would be good for your stomach."

Leraen shook her head. "I feel as if it would only come back up, and that is _not _something that I want to go through again." She carefully laid down on the grass under her, crossed her arms, and laid down her head on them. "Why is it called 'morning sickness,' anyway? I certainly was not feeling ill this morning."

"It usually hits women in the morning shortly after waking, although it does affect some at different times," Wynne said with a small smile. "You might feel better once the tea is done. The peppermint should help calm the nausea."

"Oh, if Alistair was here, I would tear-"

She stopped at that. Even though she would like to say that it was_ his _doing for bringing her to this state she could not bring herself to speak such ill-meant words, even if they were only said in jest. Shame swelled in her at the very thought of speaking such things and she was grateful that Wynne said nothing or even seemed to notice the sentence that she had stopped herself from completing.

Leraen sighed as she looked at the sky above her. The blue that was so vibrant only an hour ago was beginning to lighten and was being replaced with shades of gold and pale pink. It was times like this that she wished she was good at painting or embroidery: it was these moments when she would itch to capture the scene on a canvas or sew it into a tapestry.

_I wonder if he can see this, _she thought. Alistair had always loved sunsets. She hoped that, if Alistair was in the Fade or wherever people went when they escaped that place, that he was always surrounded by them.

"How are you doing with everything that... happened today?" the mage asked Leraen, bringing the Warden out of her thoughts as she stirred the pot of water.

"I don't know," Leraen answered. It was true. She wasn't sure what to think and could not form a definite opinion over Teagan's departure. "I'm torn, and I feel as if two parts of me have pitted itself against the other." She sighed.

"How so?"

"I just -" she hesitated, "I just don't know what to think, Wynne. I feel like this is all happening so fast. It was almost two months ago that I was Alistair's wife, and now I am to be married to another in a little over a month? And it seems that everyone expects me to be affectionate towards him; to _love _him already. How can that be when I lost Alistair such a short while ago?"

"Well, no one said that love had to be involved in this marriage," said Wynne with a smirk. "Most of the nobles who support this union only want it for political reasons, don't they? Think of it: Leraen Cousland, the sister to the current teyrn of Highever, daughter of former teyrn Bryce Cousland, the last Grey Warden, and Hero of Ferelden, who is bearing the last of the Theirins. Why wouldn't they want to marry her to Teagan Guerrin, brother of Arl Eamon and the late Queen Rowan, and former bann of the province of Rainesfere? What a match it would be!" She dropped peppermint leaves into the pot of boiling water and drew it away from the fire to allow it to cool. "Whether love is involved in your relationship is up to you and Teagan. But I do have to say that he seems to already have strong affections for you. And, if I might dare ask, aren't you becoming fond of him as well?"

"Fond? Certainly. I'm fond of how he makes me feel. I'm fond of how safe the world seems when he draws near to me, of how he makes me forget so much of my worries when he is near. He is a fine man and I appreciate him so much. But to _love _him?" Leraen shrugged. "I will admit that my emotions confuse me, but I would not say that I love him."

Wynne poured tea from the pot into a cup and handed it to Leraen, who slowly sat up so that she could accept it. "Be careful," Wynne warned. "Do not allow Teagan to believe wrongly about your emotions. That is what happened with the incident that occurred this morning, did it not?"

"Somewhat," Leraen answered. She gingerly took a sip of the hot tea and sighed as it warmed and soothed her belly. She knew that Wynne was right. Leraen's warming attitude towards how Teagan had been treating her had caused him to become misled about her feelings. But then again, her own feelings had misled her; had it not been the lingering memory of Alistair, she might have welcomed his advances. His love, his touch; it made her feel so safe and loved.

But who was she to accept such feelings? She had to admit that they were selfish. Were the only reasons that she loved when Teagan was around was for his kind words and how he made her feel?

"I know that all of this is confusing, but I'm sure that you will figure all of this, Leraen. You always do. Just be patient; everything will fall into place."

She said nothing as Leliana returned from the nearby woods with a sack full of elderberries, some herbs, and a freshly killed rabbit. Leliana and Wynne quickly went about preparing them for their next meal.

Leraen sighed. She knew that Wynne was right. A marriage to Teagan, who was kindhearted, responsible, and even handsome, was not the end of all things. She and her child would be taken care of and even loved. She just had to give her own heart time to allow him in; give it time to move on after all that had happened.

After she finished her tea, she laid back down and faced the darkening sky above her. Was he thinking of her as often as she was thinking of him?

* * *

"Eamon, we really should stop for the night." Teagan nodded towards the setting sun which painted hues of gold and pink across the evening sky. It was beautiful, no doubt. He knew it wouldn't be long until the light was gone, though, and after what had happened the night before, he had no wish to travel in the dark.

Teagan's brother sighed at the prospect. He had been absolutely determined to have reached Redcliffe by nightfall, but with their late start and relatively slow pace, he realized that it was becoming apparent that it would become dark before they would even draw close to Redcliffe. Teagan had been trying to persuade him to stop for the past half hour, but Eamon was so driven to reach home that he wouldn't hear of the notion until now, when it was obvious that the daylight would soon be gone.

"Fine, you're right. We would only become moving targets for those darkspawn stragglers, wouldn't we?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Teagan answered as he dismounted and began to walk towards a clearing on the right side of the road. Their journey had been pleasant. Fun? No. Exciting? Certainly not. But it had been pleasant and quiet, so he had few complaints. The quiet had made him realize how much he was missing their previous traveling companions, though. He had very much enjoyed making conversation with Wynne and Leliana and hearing stories of their travels. But now, his worry felt like a heavy burden for the lady who he had left behind.

At the time, after his careless kiss that he given her, he had allowed himself to believe that leaving was for the best. It would give them both time to mull their situation over and let their thoughts linger on matters that would be difficult to allow to happen if they were in each other's presence. It would allow him to help Eamon with things that needed to be finished at Redcliffe and give him some time to head to Rainesfere to hand things over to the next bann. After all, returning to Redcliffe together had been their plan all along. But after they had joined Leraen's traveling party, he wished that the idea of leaving Leraen had never returned to his mind. Even with the surprise and hurt that he knew that she felt when they had shared that kiss, she seemed even more pained to know that he had decided to leave her. What had Teagan done wrong? Had he misread her? Had he sensed that she was more ready to accept his advances than he thought she was? Or was it just a moment of weakness: one in which he temporarily forgot about her timidness, how torn she seemed between letting Teagan in and staying true to her late husband? He shook his head. It was confusing enough lose himself in.

"Are you thinking about her?" Eamon asked while he unloaded his mount's saddlebag. "You look as if you're lost deep enough into your own thoughts that I would have to send a rescue party to retrieve you!"

Teagan chuckled as he turned towards his brother. "You know me far too well, brother." He helped Eamon gather the supplies that they would need to set camp up with.

"I thought so," Eamon said with a laugh. "You miss her already."

"Perhaps," Teagan said as he tried to find an opportunity to change the subject. He loved and appreciated his brother and his advice, but after what he had convinced him to do earlier that day, he wished to no longer talk about the matter.

"Well, either way, I'm sorry that we had to leave her. You know it's for the best."

"Was it, truly?" he shook his head. "I'm not so certain, Eamon."

Eamon sighed as he began to take the saddle off of his horse. "It was starting to seem like she was going to be in need of some space. I'm sure that she appreciates everything that you have done for her, but the poor girl seemed to be so confused. Some time to figure everything out will be good with her, I think."

"I suppose so." There were too many possibilities to consider, and too many probably outcomes that he couldn't ignore that surrounded his and Leraen's circumstances. "Well, I do suppose that it's too late to turn back now, isn't it?"

"We aren't too awfully far from Redcliffe, so it would be rather inefficient, yes."

Teagan shook his head. "I still can't believe that I let you talk me into this. I _shouldn't _be here, Eamon."

"And where should you be? Beside a woman who is wounded in more ways than one, who can't decide if she is ready to love you or not? Hero of Ferelden or no, she is a woman, and in my experience they need time to make up their minds about this type of matter. Teagan, where you are needed right now is in Redcliffe or Rainesfere to ready affairs for the man who will succeed you. Wynne and Leliana will be there to help Leraen through her grief. Besides, by the time she sees you next, she might be more ready for building a relationship with you than she is now."

Teagan shrugged but remained silent. Like before, he just found the whole situation to be far too complicated.

Once they had everything unpacked they tethered up the horses, set up their tents, and started to see to dinner. Teagan unpacked a bag filled with the foodstuffs they had left: dried cheese, some jerky, a few biscuits, and leftover tea leaves that Wynne had given to Teagan the night before.

"I'm going to go see if I can find something to supplement this with," Teagan volunteered. Admittedly, after two nights of eating the same dried bread and cheese, he longed for something at least a little different. "I'll be back before it gets dark."

Eamon nodded as Teagan rose to his feet and walked towards some rather thick woods that lay on the other side of the road. In the dying light of evening it was a bit hard to see, but after some time walking under the shade that the trees cast, his eyes acclimated to the lack of light. He soon found some edible mushrooms, nuts, and berries, along with some roots to add to a stew if they decided to make one.

Once Teagan was pleased with the armful of food that he had found, he leaned against a nearby tree. It was pleasurable there in the clump of woods. The crickets chirped, rejoicing over the return of night. The birds and smaller animals seemed to be settling down as the light diminished though, preparing themselves for when the predators that thrived in the dark would once again be out to hunt. It was serene there in the midst of the trees. It was quiet and calming, soothing and restful, and a fine place to find solace in at the end of a troubling day.

But it was then that he noticed something strange. The birds had abruptly stopped their singing, the crickets had ended their chirping, and the small animals hurried to their burrows. All was silent save for the wind that rustled through the leaves.

That silence was what made the loud, rhythmic crunching sound that sounded liked of the padding of hoofbeats so jarring. He looked around the tree, expecting to see a pack of wolves or even a bear, but what he saw was even more frighting.

In front of Teagan was a pair of men who were clad head to toe in black robes. Their mounts, spotless white stallions, served as a stark contrast to their garments. Teagan shuddered once he saw that the animals' eyes were bright red. On both of the riders' backs was strapped a staff made out of twisted and gnarled wood, topped off with red jewels that were as crimson as blood. The rider on the left also had a large sword sheathed at his waist. They were headed towards the road that Teagan had just left from. Towards Eamon_, _he realized, and Leraen if they turned towards Denerim once they reached the fork.

Teagan hid behind the tree, doing his best to remain as still as he could. His heartbeat seemed to thunder and his breathing seemed to rattle in his ears as loudly as a strong gale. _Please pass, please pass, _he prayed to anyone who might hear him.

He stood frozen until they rode away. _Those riders were clothed just as the men who attacked us last night, _he realized. What did they want? Why were they here?

He took a deep breath before he realized that he had to go back for Eamon. Careful to keep a safe distance between him and the riders, he dropped the supplies that he had collected and headed back the way he had come from their campsite. He kept behind rocks, behind high grass, anything to hide him from the men who rode ahead of him.

Where was Eamon, though? Teagan frantically glanced around the area and didn't see him anywhere. Had he already been taken? Were there more riders nearby?

Teagan's heart once again began to pound once their campsite and their horses came into view. However, the riders simply rode on without giving the area a second glance. To Teagan's relief, he soon spotted his brother nearby, hiding behind a rock.

Teagan breathed again once he was certain that the black-clad men were truly gone. Carefully and quietly, so as to not give the riders reason to return, Teagan crouched and maneuvered over to where Eamon was hiding.

"Those were the same as the men that we saw last night!" Eamon whispered urgently once Teagan was within earshot.

"I know," he answered. "You saw where they were headed, though, didn't you?"

A look of dismay overtook Eamon's expression once he realized what direction they were riding in. "Back in the direction of Denerim," he said slowly, as if he had just solved a dark mystery.

"Aye," Teagan replied. "Towards Leraen and her company." He stood once the sound of hoofbeats was gone; the riders were out of sight. "I have to go after them," he said, fear rising in his chest as he realized exactly what he had said. Despite the oncoming darkness and the dangerous men that were already out there, he knew that he had to go to warn Leraen.

"Teagan, what are you thinking?" Eamon said, crossing his arms across his chest as he spoke. "They have already passed us. If you wish to warn Leraen and her companions then you would have to pass _them _somehow. And if you wish to fight them, it is only one of you against three of them. While you are a good fighter, Teagan, there is no way that you will be able to best them on your own. Besides, we don't even know if they are truly going towards Denerim. They could be taking the other path when they get to the fork."

While the idea scared him as well, he knew that he had to try _something. _He knew that he had to see that they didn't take the road towards Denerim at the fork, at least. The idea of any harm coming to Leraen frightened him even more than those riders did. "I have to go after them, Eamon. I can take a shortcut through the forest or a meadow and try to cut them off."

"Teagan, it is getting dark. You can't just go galloping through shortcuts when you can't see!"

"I also can't continue on as if we saw nothing when I know that those men might headed towards Leraen. She's with child, Eamon! If something happens to her it happens to the child as well. I am soon to be responsible for her and I know that I can't leave their safety up to chance. I just _can't._"

Teagan headed for the horses, untied his from the tree, hurriedly saddled up the horse, and quickly mounted before Eamon could protest anymore.

"Be careful," his brother voiced before he departed. "Don't do anything rash. We need you just as much as we need Leraen."

"I will be," he said, even though in his heart he knew that he would sacrifice himself for the Warden if he came to that. "I will write you soon if I have the chance."

"Stay safe."

"You too, brother." Teagan kicked the horse and galloped towards some hills nearby.

Eamon shook his head. "Maker keep you," he whispered as his brother rode away.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Reviews and feedback = love. I appreciate concrit and thoughts on how to improve this story, so please let me know if you have any! :)


	14. Missing You

Thank you, thank you, thank you FearNotTheNight and Pollyanna24 for reviewing! :)

* * *

"Leraen, wake up!"

Leraen grudgingly opened her eyes and moaned as she stretched while Leliana gently shook her shoulders. She sat up then, looking about her to see that it was completely dark save for the smoldering, lightly glowing coals that remained in the fire pit. Once her eyes adjusted she could see by the moonlight; it was a bright full moon tonight. Wynne was nowhere to be found and Leraen concluded she must have already retired to her tent.

"What time is it?" she asked as she finally forced herself to sit up.

"Late," Leliana answered. "I didn't want to disturb you, but I am going to go to bed and I didn't want to leave you out here by yourself."

Leraen nodded. When did she doze off? She remembered talking to Wynne, of her and Leliana starting dinner, and then... nothing. She had gotten more sleep than usual the night before, and hadn't had any more of an excess of activity that day than she had had on the rest of the trip. Leraen sighed. She remembered now: Wynne warned her that her pregnancy may cause her to feel fatigued, even when her amount of activity wouldn't warrant such exhaustion. She found it funny that it should happen on the same day as the nausea. Wherever the Maker was, he must have a dark sense of humor for making them both come to her on the same day.

"Thank you, Leliana," Leraen voiced as she stood to her feet. "I don't know what came over me earlier."

"Do not worry. You must have needed the rest!" She collected the food that had been left around the fire and stuffed them into a bag. Leraen accepted a leftover piece of bread from Leliana; she finally felt able to eat. "Is it the babe that is ailing you?"

"Well, I wouldn't blame the baby for causing me to feel the way that I am," Leraen said, her hand absentmindedly lifted to rest on her stomach. "I would hope that it wouldn't be wanting to cause me so much grief. But yes, the pregnancy must be what is causing me these symptoms."

"I'm so sorry. Well, you have what? Seven months left?"

"Give or take," she answered. "Seven long months."

"Oh, cheer up. I'm sure that they will pass more quickly than you expect. And then you will have a baby to cuddle to your heart's content!"

"That's easy for you to say," Leraen scoffed. "You are not the one who will have to deal with this for another seven months." she shook her head. "I know it will be worth it, but I don't know how I'll endure."

"Listen to you!" Leliana smiled. "You haven't even started to show yet!" She patted her friend on the back and giggled. "You can make it, I know you can. The Hero of Ferelden can make it through a pregnancy, can't she?"

"I suppose so," Leraen said, returning the smile. "Sorry. I suppose I'm just in a dark mood today."

Leliana shook her head. "No harm done." She began to twiddle with a stray blade of grass that she plucked from the ground. "Do you miss him?" She asked.

"Miss who?" Leraen answered, even though she knew exactly who she was referring to. The subject was still tender, and she didn't wish to speak of it any more than she had to.

"Don't play that game with me," Leliana said, smirking. "Teagan. Do you wish he was here?"

Leraen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew why Leliana would ask the question. Her friend was a romantic at heart and wanted to listen for more clues that Leraen was becoming fond of her betrothed. However, that didn't lessen the blow of the question that her friend asked her. She simply did not wish to have to think about his earlier departure again."Yes, I suppose I do," she answered at last, despite her strong desire not to. "I must admit that it hurt when he left."

"He was only doing what he thought was best for both of you," said Leliana. "Besides, the wedding will be coming up soon, no? He'll be back before you know it."

Wedding? Leliana was right; Eamon still held onto his belief that the wedding should be held before she began to show, and if they were to hold the ceremony before that happened, it should be held around the twelfth week. If her baby was growing on schedule, a few weeks longer than that might make her pregnancy too noticeable for his liking. Then, the wedding would have to be in five, six weeks, maybe seven at the longest. Leraen swallowed. The thought made her head swim.

"Anyway, I'm going to bed," Leliana said as she stood. "Don't stay out here for too much longer, all right?"

"All right," Leraen agreed. "Sleep well, Leliana."

"You too." She gently embraced her friend around her shoulders before she began to walk towards her tent.

* * *

Teagan urged his charger on, bearing pressure at the horse's sides through his legs, kicking him with his heels. He had lost track of how long they had been galloping through this meadow that he had decided to cut through but he had no intention of slowing down, much to his mount's dismay. He knew that he couldn't be too far from Leraen's camp, but he also knew that he would have to slow down eventually; he didn't wish to run his horse to death.

It was dark but the moon was full that night and was bright enough to light his way and reveal the obstacles that lay in his path. His horse had been quite nimble, and jumped over and avoided various logs and rocks that Teagan would have otherwise not seen. His horse hadn't stumbled and Teagan had kept his seat, and he was quite grateful for both.

He had only seen the black-clad men a couple of times when he had ridden close to the road, when he would take the time to hide from view in a clump of trees or behind a hill or ridge. He was pretty sure that he was ahead of them now, though; each time he had seen them they were traveling at a slow pace – their horses were only walking or lightly trotting. He hadn't seen them in a while and inferred that he must have already passed them at a gallop. He still wasn't willing to slow his pace, though. What if they had seen him or had decided to increase their own speed? He couldn't risk letting them cut him off or reach Leraen first.

Soon enough, he saw a cluster of tents, a few horses tethered to trees, a carriage, and smoke rising from a smoldering fire. _That must be the camp! _Urgency flooded inside of him as he pushed the horse to rush even faster towards the site.

He reined his horse into a stop once he was along the campsite's perimeter. He saw a lone figure sitting by the fire that quickly stood when it sensed his arrival. He promptly dismounted, lifting his hands in surrender once he saw it draw a knife from a sheath strapped onto its leg.

"Identify yourself!" she shouted. She approached him cautiously and cocked her head quizzically as she tried to ascertain who the intruder was.

"Leraen, it's me!" he answered as gently as he could, stepping closer to the fire so that she could see his face. The caution in her posture and the aggressiveness in her stature quickly dissipated. She sheathed the dagger and her arms fell to her side. A confused expression came to her face.

"Teagan? What are you doing here? Where's Eamon?"

"He's well. He's on his way to Redcliffe." Teagan nervously began to wring his hands. "Leraen, you're in danger. We need to get you out of here. Now." Teagan rushed to her side and grabbed her arm before she could protest against him. "Where are Wynne and Leliana?"

"In their tents," she said, her eyes becoming wide with surprise. "What is going on?"

"I'll explain later – there's no time." With her arm locked in his own, he hurried over to the tents and roused the other two women. "Hurry, we need to take to the trees," he whispered to each once they were awake.

"What are you doing here, Teagan?" Wynne asked as she rubbed her tired eyes.

"They're coming," he said quickly, "riders clad in black like the ones we fought last night. I came to warn you all."

"But what about the horses? Our things?" Leliana asked. She seemed to be just as bewildered as Leraen was over Teagan's strange behavior.

"We will come back for them. We have to go _now._" Urgency filled his voice as he ushered Leraen towards the woods. He couldn't let her near the magi who he knew was coming. Thoughts of what had happened the night before raced through his mind: of his terror when they tied her to the tree, of her cut hand as she sawed through the rope that had bound them, of the arrow that grazed her shoulder that could have injured her gravely if it had flown an inch closer. He knew that Leraen would want to protect her companions, which was noble and understandable after all the had happened during the Blight, but he feared the consequences of what might happen if she was allowed to participate in combat again; they were much higher than they were before.

He pulled Leraen towards the trees and the others followed. Sure enough, he could hear the sound of hoofbeats coming from the road. He quickened his pace and dragged the Warden behind him, ducking behind a tree with a particularly wide trunk. "Do not move," he warned the women that surrounded him, his tone strict and serious. He then turned to Leraen and squeezed her hand."I will not, cannot, let you face them."

She nodded but remained silent. Their attentions returned to the recently evacuated camp as it was filled with three white horses and their robed riders. They were as Teagan had seen earlier: draped all over with black fabric and heavily armed with staves and swords strapped onto their backs. Teagan lifted an eyebrow. Hadn't he only seen two riders earlier? When had the third one joined them? Were these riders the same ones that he had seen in the woods?

"I didn't expect this place to be so... empty," said one of them. His voice was shaky and sounded as if it belonged to an older man.

"Perhaps they received word that we were coming," said another, a woman's. She dismounted her horse and let it stand where she left it. "They can't be far away; they left their mounts."

"It matters not." The third, another man, albeit younger by the sound of his voice, dismounted as well. "We need them alive, anyway. Let's find what we need and leave."

"But what about our orders? What if they know that we're here?" the woman asked.

"Forget them. This is going as smoothly as we could have wanted. Besides, they have more important things to worry about than people coming to look through their camp."

Even after that ambiguous answer, his companions did not ask any more questions, and obediently began to search through the campsite. They rummaged through bags, through the carriage, the tents. Teagan could see Leraen stiffen as they did this. He could imagine that it was difficult for her to sit idly as they looked through their things.

After only two minutes, it seemed that they had found what they were looking for. The woman, who had entered the tent that Wynne had been using, emerged with a staff: a wooden one that was carved with two serpents that held a yellow stone between their mouths. It must have been Wynne's staff. "I found it," said the mage, who promptly joined the other two figures in the middle of the campsite. Voicing their satisfaction, they walked towards their horses, mounted, and proceeded back along the way they had come towards the road.

Wynne crossed her arms as they rode off. "What do they want with my staff?" she said evenly.

Teagan carefully stood once the riders were out of sight. Frankly, he didn't care about what they wanted with Wynne's staff or what they were really intending by visiting their campsite. What he really cared about was that Leraen was safe, that the magi didn't seem to have seen them, and that it seemed unlikely that they would return.

Leraen, however, did seem to be more concerned about the matter. "Was there anything special about that staff that you can think of, Wynne?"

"It's not any more special than many other staves. It was given to me when I became an enchanter at the Circle. It is indeed a good staff, but it is not particularly valuable."

Leraen shook her head as she stood as well. "I'm sorry that you have lost it. If things were different I wouldn't let them get away."

"It's all right, Leraen." Wynne smiled. "It's just a staff."

The Warden sighed. "This is all so strange. Why would they not care about whether or not we were at the camp or if we knew they were here? The men who we encountered last night seemed quite intent to bring us our deaths."

"'Tis quite confusing," Leliana agreed. "The ones that attacked us last night did seem quite afraid of the darkspawn, though. Perhaps they had accidentally attracted the darkspawn, decided it would be best to leave us as bait, take what they needed while their pursuers were distracted, and leave."

"Too bad for them that it didn't work out that way," the Warden scoffed. "I suppose the ones who came tonight finished what the others could not, then."

"Do we think it is safe to stay at our camp tonight? Will they come back?" Leliana asked.

Teagan shrugged. "I don't see how traveling in the dark will be much safer than staying here. They seem to have acquired what they had come for. Why would they have to come back?" Carefully, he walked out from the trees and stopped once he reached the fire. "I don't see why they would need to return."

Leraen came out and joined him. The others soon followed. "Thanks for coming to warn us about them," Leraen said. "I fear what might have happened if we had to fight them."

Teagan smiled. "I'm glad that I could help. I couldn't bear the thought of..."

His voice tapered into silence, giving more emphasis to his fear for her safety than his words ever could. She blinked twice, but then softly smiled. She must have known what he was trying to convey. "It's all right," she said at last. "We're all safe now, thanks to you."

"We should probably have some of us keep watch tonight," Leliana said. "Even though it is unlikely that the riders will return, it won't hurt to prepare ourselves in case they change their minds."

Wynne nodded. "That seems wise to me."

"I volunteer," Teagan said quickly. "I fear that this whole ordeal has taken away any chance of sleep for me tonight."

Leraen scowled. "Teagan, you have been riding all day, and that last rush to get here must have been exhausting. You have to give yourself a chance to rest."

"No, I'm fine," said he. "I seriously don't think that I will be able to sleep."

"I can switch off with him in a few hours," Leliana added. "He'll be fine. Perhaps some time out here in the quiet is all that he will need to get himself ready for sleep. Just come and rouse me when you feel that you can't stay awake any longer."

"Thank you, Leliana."

Leraen stiffened. It was obvious that she still did not approve of their plan.

"I'll get the fire started again," Wynne offered. She threw some new wood onto the smoldering coals, rubbed her hands together, stretched them outward, and set the small logs alight. Teagan thanked her.

Wynne and Leliana once again returned to their tents once they saw that everything was ready for the night. Teagan frowned, though; Leraen sat on the ground in front of the fire with her chin in her palms, eyes staring at the light that came from the dancing flames.

"You should go to bed too," Teagan said gently. Despite the rest he knew that she had acquired the previous night, she still had dark circles under her eyes.

Leraen shrugged. "I'm not tired."

"You're a bad liar, too," he said with a smile. "It's all right, really. I'll be fine."

She pulled up her knees, hugged them to her chest, and rested her chin on them. "What, exactly, did you hope to accomplish by coming back, Teagan?"

He frowned. Leraen had thanked him. He thought she had been grateful. "Why, to do something to protect you. What else?"

"I know that."

"You thanked me for that. What caused this change of heart?"

She shook her head. "I am forever grateful, Teagan. I do hate to think of what might have transpired if you had not arrived when you did. But the question still remains: what did you think you were going to do about about the riders?"

"I - I don't know." He pulled a hand through his hair as he stammered. "I couldn't just stay put when I knew that those magi might have been headed for you."

"And what would you have done if you had met up with them on the road? You couldn't have just taken them all on by yourself."

"Leraen, you don't understand." He finally sat across from her. "I _can't _lose you. I can't even harbor the thought. My life is nothing if it means that I have to let you go."

"And you think that you can just throw your life away like that? You are to be king, Teagan, and you have a lot of time left which you can use to do good. I am just so tired of having people give themselves up for me. It is unfair for the price of my own life to demand so many others."

"Do you know why they sacrifice themselves for you, Leraen? You are precious; loved more than you know by many. They see everything that you could do, all the people you could help if they traded their life for yours. What about all the time that you have? You have more years left than I. What about all the good that you will do and have done?"

Leraen visibly flinched once he mentioned the time that she had left to live and she let her gaze fall to the ground.

"You mean, you don't know?" She sighed but then uttered a chuckle; not the kind made out of joy or amusement, but the sarcastic, almost bitter sound that was made to help one cope with painful thoughts. "Why would you know?" she asked no one in particular. "It's not like it's common knowledge or anything of that sort. It's quite the opposite, really."

Teagan frowned. "Know what? What is wrong?"

She rubbed her eyes. "The cost for becoming a Grey Warden is higher than you might expect, Teagan. I'm afraid that how old I am no longer has much to do with how many years I may have left to live."

"What do you mean?" He knew that the Grey Wardens were used to kill Archdemons and in ending blights, which Alistair had proved to be fatal, but not much more than that. Her face almost seemed to grow paler as he asked his questions, her eyes more hollow. It hurt him to see her become so affected. "Leraen, I don't mean to pry. We don't have to speak of this now if you don't wish to."

"No," she said quickly. "You are to become my husband, Teagan. It is only fair for you to know what you are getting yourself into." She picked a nearby flower and absentmindedly began to twirl it between her fingers.

"Well, for starters," she said almost painfully, "we Wardens have tremendous appetites, especially right after The Joining. Something happens during our initiation that gives us a need for more sustenance than is normal for most."

Teagan remained silent. He hadn't noticed Leraen eating more than usual at their meals. Perhaps her appetite had diminished because of her anxiety, her pregnancy, the amount of time that had passed since she joined the Grey Wardens, or a combination of the three? He knew better than to comment on that, though; if he had learned anything from his past relationships with women, it was that he had no business commenting on anything that related to their weight, whether it be their diet or amount of food they ate. He didn't wish to offend Leraen while she spoke of this seemingly tender topic.

"How does one go about becoming a Warden?" he asked at last.

"As you may know, the Grey Wardens reserve a right to conscript those who they may wish to recruit into the order. Many Wardens who were recruited were criminals; being conscripted gave them a second chance. It was in this manner that I was recruited during Howe's attack on Highever. I did not wish to leave my family to their deaths, so Duncan conscripted me so that he could forcibly take me away." She shook her head. "He literally dragged me away from Highever. Looking back, I know that I owe him my life.

"After this, the recruits are presented with a goblet at their initiation rites – what we call The Joining. The goblet is filled with a mixture of darkspawn blood, lyrium, a drop of blood from an Archdemon or comparable tainted creature, and the recruit must drink of it. Many... don't make it." She lifted a chain from her neck - a small vial that was filled with a red liquid hung from it. "We keep amulets like these to remind us of the sacrifices that are required for us to have come as far as we have."

Teagan swallowed; he couldn't remember seeing her wear that necklace before, but he quickly waved away the thought. "You had to drink darkspawn blood? Isn't it poisonous?"

"Indeed." Leraen said as she tucked the chain back down beneath her shirt. "Three recruits drank of the cup in my Joining. One died after partaking it. The other panicked and was slain; he couldn't be allowed to back out for fear that he would warn other potential recruits against the rite."

"But that's so -"

"Brutal? It is, indeed. But Duncan, the man who was conducting the rite and who was the leader of the Wardens at the time, couldn't allow him to go free. The Joining, and what happens during it, is to remain secret.

"It is this darkspawn blood, or what we Wardens call the taint, that allows us to sense other Wardens and darkspawn, and what allows them to sense us. It can cause the Warden to have some pretty lurid nightmares, which we can learn to block out eventually. It is also how we can kill Archdemons – when it is killed it would merely possess another darkspawn, but since the taint dwells in a Warden, he can allow the essence of the Archdemon to possess himself, which ultimately kills the Warden and the trapped demon. That is how Alistair died. "

Teagan shook his head. "I had no idea."

"It's best that way," Leraen answered. "No one would want to be recruited into the Wardens if they knew everything it entailed. But that's not all, I'm afraid.

"The risk of death at The Joining is not the only toll that the taint brings. If he survives the ceremony, the taint whittles away at the Warden's strength and willpower. Eventually, the dreams that he may have learned to block out return, and he may feel the same need the darkspawn feel to find the old gods - the gods they turn into Archdemons. This is what is called The Calling. It may take thirty years, give or take, for the taint to run its course, although the time it takes for each Warden to feel The Calling is most likely variable. When it is his time, the Warden will decide to take to the Deep Roads before he succumbs to the taint. He will go there and fight and kill as many darkspawn as he can before they take his own life."

"Leraen, I..." his voice trailed off. "I am so sorry. I didn't know. I don't know what to say."

"It's all right," she said, almost at a whisper. "I don't know what there is to be said about it. I just... I hope this doesn't change much between us."

He shook his head. "I don't see how it can. It saddens me greatly to hear all of it, though."

"Even with all that said, there actually isn't too much I know about all this Grey Warden stuff. Alistair told me all he knew, which wasn't too awfully much since he was the Wardens' junior member, and the rest about the Archdemons I learned from Riordan. But, Teagan," she sighed and looked to the ground. Lines of worry crossed her forehead. "According to Alistair, Wardens are supposed to be... infertile. Unable to have children. In both genders, most likely." A hand flew to her stomach protectively as she spoke. "I know I worry too much, but I have been thinking recently: what if it's not that female Wardens are unable to conceive but are unable to carry the child to term?"

Teagan scowled. "Are you saying that you are afraid that you will miscarry?"

Leraen remained silent, her eyes unmoving. Teagan found that to be answer enough. He moved closer to her and reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze to, if nothing else, remind her that he was there. "It's going to be all right," he whispered. "You have one of the best healers in all of Ferelden at your beck and call. Have you spoken to Wynne about this?"

She shook her head. "I am sure that she is aware of the problem, though."

"It wouldn't hurt to express your concern to her. She has deemed that you are healthy, hasn't she?"

"Considering everything that has happened, she says I am doing well."

"Then I say there is little to worry about now. No matter what happens, we'll make it through all of this. I promise."

That brought a small smile to Leraen's face that Teagan could do nothing but return. "Thanks," she said as she squeezed his hand back. "I'm glad you're here, Teagan."

He took her hand into his own and kissed it. "I am too, Leraen."

* * *

Leliana stretched and yawned. Despite the cold air, the birds were singing, the sun was shining, and it already seemed to be shaping up to be a wonderful morning.

She stopped stretching and sat up quickly, almost dizzying herself as she did so. It was already morning? Why hadn't Teagan woken her up when it was her time to keep watch? Was he still safe? She hurriedly dressed herself and threw a cloak over her shoulders before she walked outside.

She stopped once she was outside her tent. A smile crept onto her face when she partook of the scene in front of her. There sat Teagan, sitting with his back against a rock that stood near the campfire and next to him sat Leraen whose head was laying on his shoulder. Both were sound asleep.

"I _knew _you missed him."


End file.
